


Sunlight & Moonshine

by naijagirl101



Series: Magically Arranged Marriage [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Honestly this story pretty much wrote itself, Magically Arranged Marriage series, Ministry of Magic, Muggle Technology, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Second favorite thing I've ever written, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-04-29 21:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 74,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naijagirl101/pseuds/naijagirl101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love?

_"Love? You can't mean the thing between Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown?" - Luna whispering doubtfully to Ginny, after watching a particularly heavy petting session between the two_.

* * *

I'm pretty sure I've never been a strong believer in romantic love. Not the windswept, the knight in shining armor come to save the damsel from distress kind of love, not the sweeping her off her feet and fixing all her problems sort of love that most people seem to think is what will happen to them. What should happen to them. No, I don't believe in it at all. It's silly and doubtful. It's the kind of love is way too abstract, way too unreal, too idealized for me to believe in. If a wish-granting flying amore pig isn't involved in those kind of loves (and no one's seen those creatures for a decade), I'm just not going to believe it. Not to mention that I've never felt it: no frantic beating of my heart, no nervous blushing or helpless shyness, nothing. 

Nothing.

It hasn't happened to me and somehow I don't think it ever will. And I'm happy about it - after all I've always had myself for company.

Romance wasn't anything I saw in school – indeed, for the majority of my time at Hogwarts, I was isolated. Pointed at. Whispered about. Usually, it didn't matter to me one way or another what my schoolmates thought about me. I had my Dad and the paper and the investigation of things people believe to be unseen but exist all around. Besides, there weren't a lot of people who I found magnetic enough to attract my interest.

Except Harry Potter.

Someone who was always pointed at and whispered about. Sort of like me. Except Harry had a heavier burden – I'd say saving the magical world was probably a pretty hefty weight for a teenager who'd just discovered who he was and what he was meant to do. To have all these people look at you with stars in your eyes, the legend preceding you, and having to navigate an entirely new world that you hadn't know existed until you turned eleven...A much much heavier burden. Harry had Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley to help him, cheer him up, make it better. But I could see that sometimes they weren't enough.

There are some things that you have to deal with alone. And it's usually these selfsame things that have the ability to make or break you.

Harry was a little bit darker than the rest of his Year from the start. He'd already seen things, been through some things that were a bit different. When we really became friends, right before the start of the War, I learned that his aunt and uncle hadn't raised him the same as his cousin. He'd been hated in house – in fact, he'd lived in a cupboard room instead of an actual bedroom. I think that sort of begin made sense to me – why Harry was a little bit separate. And what with him being the reason his parents were killed by Voldemort, Harry's propensity for saving and avenging were kind of…self-explanatory.

It was from there that I became friends with his year. Ginny, one of the best of my friends, I'd already seen and spoken to by Fourth Year. Neville, who is the closest thing to a brother that I've ever had, was so very earnest and honest that I think he would have roused my interest eventually. Hermione, who I knew for a fact thought I was strange from the start, took a long time to warm too. But when it happened, it was instant and we were permanent friends. Seamus, the one Irish Gryffindor in his year, was funny. And then there was his best mate, Dean.

Dean Thomas.

Dean was tall and gentle and so very…comfortable…to me. He was always polite, always conscientious yet he rarely spoke without weighing his words. He was happy and cheerful, and had a wry subtle sense of humor all his own, that I couldn't help but be a little bit lighter just being around him. Yet, he was also like Hermione, thinking I was incredibly strange. But he seemed to just skip right over the part that usually came after people meet me, the awkward silence that the polite ones try and fill before making excuses to leave and the rude ones simply leave. He treated me like the rest...like I wasn't nicknamed 'Loony Lovegood', like I wasn't always talking about my father's magazine. My explanation of fire-breathing Smygmies, a unique cross-breed of pygmies and snockerels, and Nargles didn't throw him off at the very first. And that was a refreshing change. Even though he was so nice that it didn't immediately garner my attention, I appreciated it. And once Ginny had brought me into the circle, I ran into him more and more often. Either with Seamus and Lavender or with some other Gryffindors. And slowly, we started to get to know each other. Believe me, those first few weeks of our acquaintance were the strangest of any acquaintances I'd had yet. But it was so…

Comfortable.

That was what it was in a nutshell. Dean and I slipped into that kind of easy going friendship that few experience but many envy. It was easy, effortless, not even really requiring words or heavy conversation to keep the mechanics of it minutes would go by in silence that I didn't feel the need to fill, nor he. Amazing to find something like that, skirting above weighty words, skimming the top. I only ever saw the good side of him that first month, the month leading up to the official start of the War.

And the War? Daddy had refused to leave the country but had agreed to aid the effort through indirect spy-work. Daddy is an unregistered - changing into a calico tabby cat, unremarkable except for the blueness of his eyes. I'd been worried about the danger of the job but Daddy had wanted to help out in any way he could, and Professor McGonagoll had decided it would be for the best. Wartime was indescribable. Death Eaters were on the run, news of the giants gathering up north, the centaurs gone from the Forbidden Forest, parents taking their kids out of Hogwarts in droves. We were their the first month of that Year before Harry made the decision to leave. And if he was leaving, we were going with him. Not just us, his friends, but many of the kids of Dumbledore's Army - with or without their parents permission. Taking hold of our destinies was intimidating and terrifying and courageous in parts. And it was the deciding part, the doing part, that banded the youngest members of the Order together tighter than anything else. We were apart of something greater, and we might lose our lives in standing up for this, but we were going to do it anyway. No one knew better than the adults what to expect of the days ahead, but no one understood better than Harry what had to be done. And he did it all - worked hard on learning the dueling skills needed, improved upon some and created new shields of his own to aid in protecting and fighting against the Dark Side.

Those dark days would have been unbearable, had I still been as alone as I was during my school years. Neville and Ginny were my constant companions in Guilding Place, the Order of the Phoenix's refuge and stronghold. And Dean was there too, albeit a more serious Dean, but I enjoyed his company all the more for the now-rare laughter that he engaged in. Then the battles begun. At first, the adults shielded us from battle. I'd like to say that I'm one of the more levelheaded teens of my peergroup, and that Professor McGonall and Lady Vance and Moody and Lupin were dead-set against us doing much more than providing Healing or Support on the grounds. Casualties weren't high, that I knew of, in that first month, and we were all kept close together. But Harry was adamant that we be added to the ranks of the army - and pretty soon, his demands for active duty were taken up by the rest.

The first battle I was involved in was almost too much for me. The adults had aquiesced...finally...talking down Tonks and Molly Weasley and Hagrid, but could only compromise so much. They'd wanted us prepared but in a situation where we would know what to expect. And so, against all hopes, the forty-or-so of us were divided into half with one half stationed at home and other half out to scout for enemy movement in the rural outskirts of Alberdon. I was of the second half. My group consisted of Tonks as the adult leader, and Lavender Brown, Anthony Goldstein and Neville Longbottom finishing my small group of five. The abandoned building we'd specifically been sent to search was thankfully empty, and all the sleuth tactics that we'd practiced at the base were finally put into use. All had been clear...

Until I'd heard a scream and spun around just in time to see a thin beam of bright green light shoot into the air a hundred yards away. The signal for help from the Light Side. All hell had broken out with all groups sprinting towards the blazing light in the sky. I myself was off running before I could think too deeply about it. My mind was a blur, my legs pumping dirt into the air behind me, my breath coming in short gasps from the exertion. Thank God for my quick reflexes because once into the forest things kept coming at me. Two Death Eaters appeared suddenly on my right, and doing the only think I could, I ducked, rolled and managed to elbow one between the ribs before taking off again with the dimming green light in sight. My thoughts had been muddled: green light and help being everything my being was focused on.

And then I had reached the clearing, jumping unconsciously right into battle. Spells everywhere, the eerie whizzing of shooting charms and speeding curses leaving flaming trails of pretty light all over the place. In a glance I took in the situation - all in all, it was rather even, even with the three or four wizards and witches down at various points. I slowed down, whipped out the wand, and began wending my way through the fold. And, of course, my arrival heralded the arrival of a few more groups so attacks began immediately. 

It seemed like it was just a long blur of fighting after that...my arms were tired and I had a head injury that made it difficult to concentrate, not to mention the blood that trickled down the sides of my face. I fought and fought until I thought that I was beyond doing anything but that, but my energy waned, and I found myself struggling to stay above. Before I knew it, I was crawling to the edge of the clearing and fighting from a crouch, shooting off really basic levitation spells and distractive charms because I couldn't do a lot more. I'd to wait for a lull, and thankfully it looked like the battle was coming to an end.

"You alright?"

Dean. My friend. And, at the moment, a savior. He looked as tired as I felt but he offered me a smile and an urgent hand and pulling me to my feet easily. Two spells went off so quickly in the air above us that I had no time to react. Dean went into battle mode though - deflecting the two of them and destabilizing one attacker. I couldn't even nod, could barely support myself, so I just leaned against the tree gratefully.

"Stay with me, Luna," he shouted again, shaking my shoulders. "Stay with me."

"Very," I gasped, "tired."

"I know," he said urgently. "But I need you to stay conscious. Hold on to me and I'll get us out, okay?"

I nodded wordlessly and clutched his rough cloak. It was all that was keeping me standing at that point. Really.

So I held on and kept my eyes open wide and even propped up my wand to watch his back. I held on and walked and Dean never left me, never had to look back to see if I was still there. Crazy how tired I'd felt, crazy how much I'd wanted to just sort of close my eyes and sleep for a bit. But it was war and I was in the middle of battle and the sky would freeze over before I let myself be tricked or surprised by some Death Eaters. I thank whatever Being there is for Dean since he got me out of there intact, taking a few bruises along the way himself. And much later, when we'd gotten back to the safety of Phoenix Headquarters, I smiled and took one of his really large hands and squeezed it and thanked him. Then got myself off to bed before I fell over where I was standing.

That kind of thing drew us closer, drew all of my best mates closer into a...recognizable unit. Even Harry, who had so much to worry about and plan and just ponder, was drawn inevitably. And I kept thinking that Friends are really good things to have, I say. There's really no accolade high enough for someone who'll come back into battle to make sure you hadn't moved on to the next world yet. So the battles were exhilarating and terrifying and ultimately rewarding since we all knew we were doing something to fight for our side but...We started losing each other.

A recruit from Shanghai, a pretty girl who's name translated into something like 'Frozen Flower' only nineteen years old and fresh out of school, died a month in. She'd been hit around the knees with a freezing spell - a spell that actually caused ice to form instantly around the legs, effectively trapping the person - and had been found by a Death Eater before anyone could help. Her death had been water in the face...because she was young, and quiet, and most importantly was the only daughter of a working family back home who would ache for her.

The sight of Professor McGonagoll's shaking hands as she penned the letter to the mother and father, the black ribbons her room-mate wore in her hair the weeks immediately after, Charlie's face upon returning from delivering the letter...all of it served as a reminder. A sort of sign that said 'Hey. Look. War is not fun and games. We're fighting for our lives.' Even I who hadn't known too much about the quiet girl was taken aback by the suddenness. I was scared and disturbed - life could be extinguished so bloody easily.

It taught the rest of us to walk carefully.

Now missions and battles weren't all fun and games. They weren't looked at as fun or exhilarating, so much, and we all looked out for each other even now. The adults didn't know it but we met individually in our groups and came up with recon-style battling, improvising and improving upon what we saw the adults do as to make sure no one was ever caught out the way that girl had been. Frozen, helpless, no way to escape inevitable death. But the reality of war-time is that no side goes unscathed. And so, of the hundred and fifty young recruits from all over the world, we lost a few. Some deaths were of those I didn't know personally or had never talked to, but some? Some were of people too close to home. 

Hannah Nott's brother Alfie, who was a male slightly-less dramatic version of his little sister, was killed in the middle of battle. Kingsbolt's niece by marriage was struck down in a recon-mission by a stray death curse, and a French boy named Gaspard Didier was caught unawares a month later in a similar mission. And then the Creevey brothers. Colin had somehow been captured in battle. Headquarters had been in an uproar over it. Not just the adults who were terrified of what could have happened to him since the Death Eaters has said nothing but the DA too. Harry had been distraught that day, Dean silently tense and Ron openly angry. Ginny, Hermione and I had been at wit's end trying to keep the boys from going out to do their own recon for the little Gryffindor who's quirk for photography had sort of wormed its way into our hearts.

He'd been missing a week when news had come back to base. The worst had happened. Colin had died horrifically during torture, needless torture since he hadn't known anything about the Phoenix's leaders plans. Like some sort of sick joke, the Eaters had taken photos as they burned him. Neville and Dennis Creevey had found the pictures and the urn of his ashes. That one death had destroyed any morale, any cheer, anything good that we'd felt we'd accomplished all those months. Later that night, sitting quietly in a chair in his room, I watched a curled-up Neville on his bed.

"Never seen it," he kept muttering, eyes closed, turned towards the wall. "Never seen anything like it in all my life."

Dennis went on his suicide mission less than seven days later, killing twelve Death Eaters before he was overcome and killed in turn. We didn't get anything left of him.

It had been the oldest set of Death Eaters, those left from the last War, that had led it. And later on, we'd found out that event had caused strife. I suppose even Voldemort followed rules of War, or else took badly to insubordination, because the bodies of the Eaters that had survived Dennis misled attack were left at the next bomb site. Twisted retribution for a dangerous misdeed. Black justice. Nothing in this War was ever as straight-forward as it could have been.

Harry spiraled into depression after that. He locked himself up in his room. Didn't eat. Didn't drink. Wouldn't see anyone. Same way that Hannah Abbot had...as if all that time alone in grief made them into machine-killers all on its own. Our group was sad. Weary. And I was horrified. I couldn't figure out how anyone could condone burning another human alive, much less watching. Watching? Bloody hell, watching so that they can take photos? I just...even now, I can't even describe the way it felt to see how broken up we were...the night I spent crying in my bed with Ginny, the way Mr. and Mrs. Creevey had crumpled on the doorstep of Headquarters. It felt like I spent that week crying, reminders of them everywhere, the cameras, the photos. It really hit everyone hard. A few recruits went home after that. The realities of War were too much, too much to be borne.

Dean was the one thing that I came to realize was dependable. Even if he wasn't as cheerful as he used to be, he was a constant. Even if most of our conversations circled around the unfamiliarity of war, we still talked. He was comfortable, constant, unchanging...and I came to really value him as a best mate in addition to Neville.

"I'd better always watch out for you," he'd say with a teasing half-smile. "Don't need to find you crouching against a tree again, do I?"

Always watching out for me, always looking out for me. Merlin only knew what other creatures were watching out during those days. So maybe I grew to rely on him a little bit more than the others, look for him a little earlier than everyone else. He'd accepted me before any of the others, and I think I noticed it subconsciously. Dean was a good guy, a genuinely great guy - and I think I noticed that too. But he was just Dean, always Dean. And when I look back on it now, I think that I had wanted to keep it that way.

For as long as possible.

"You sure you can't make it?" Ginny's voice came through loud and clear over the phone I held to my ear.

Saturday morning and I was where I always was - headquarters for  _The Quibbler._ Today was crunch-day since publication should be done tomorrow. Therefore, all forty of our staff-members were in the office, in the print room, running in and out of Daddy's office to make sure all the stories were done. Since I was to be taking over the editorial in a few years, I'd began coming in regularly to get aquainted with everyone and get used to how things run. And, of course, create ideas on how I'd run it. So far, so good.

"Oh, yes," I answered, my eyes following my assistant Eric as he leaned over the old-fashioned ink printers to check the layout for one of the back pages. "You know I won't be able to get hold of the letter until I get home anyway. Where are you supposed to be meeting everyone anyway?"

"Florean's."

"And you have your letter already?"

There was silence for a little while, and a world of feeling in that silence.

"Yes."

"Well." At the moment, there wasn't much more that I could say. When word had first gotten out about this 'soulmate' thing, it had been quiet and subtle. It hadn't been spoken to those who would leak it to the world, and a handful of departments in the Ministry were privy to the knowlege. Bill Weasley's was one of them. The first response was shock, a sort of "Are you joking?" before . The reasons were good reasons but not for interference in something so personal...but it was right after the War, and much of the magical world was focusing on rebuilding for peace.

I guess peace includes this sort of thing.

Regardless, it would be fine for people like me who had no signficant other. No love of their life. No romantic emotional attachment  _not_  marriage to anyone else. But for people like Ginny, young men and women like her? The Ministry was setting out to potentially ruin strong relationships. The argument was that the method was basically a sure-go way. If you were meant to be with person you are with right now, if you two had a strong enough relationship, then you would be each other's one. With an argument like that, Ginny and Harry should be safe.

 _Still..._ still. The doubt was there. And every single one of their friends knew it.

"Well," I repeated. "I can't offer you anything comforting 'cept this: we all know you and Harry are meant to be together. Heavens, the  _world_  knows it too. The whole 'strength of relationships' thing means you two are certainly fated to be betrothed."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "Yes, I believe that. We  _all_  do. So you go to Florean's with the rest of them, open that letter, and let me know the good news as soon as possible, alright?"

"Deal." Gin sounded happier, more confident, and much more like herself.  _As it should be,_  I thought to myself. "Oh and if you can get ahold of Neville, that would be lovely. Left a message yesterday to let him know Dean will have his letter."

"Double deal," I responded. She laughed - one of our little jokes. "I'll call you later then."

"Cheers."

I flipped the phone shut and pushed myself off the wall to get into the fray of things. As I worked, I thought. I should have felt more of an impact with this kind of change heading for me. I am often called 'unruffled' but this should have had me feeling...somehow. And I wasn't. For a minute, I let myself dwell on it -  _was I not taking this seriously enough? Should I be worried about whoever it was I was supposed to be ordered to tie myself down to?_  I just wasn't bothered. And couldn't be.

And so, whoever he was, I guessed I would make it work. After all, I didn't really believe in love but if we were good enough together, I'd be content. And peaceful. And that was really all I could ask for.

 _In a way, I'm just like the rest,_ I thought,  _content to rebuild for peace._

Soon work got so busy that I couldn't afford to spend time thinking about change, much less the letter waiting for me back at home. I was swallowed up in the hustle and bustle of my small workplace. When colored ink ran out for one of the print-presses, I had to apparate down to the city to get a whole new box of it. And while I was gone, two staff writers discovered that a story wasn't in from one of our freelance writers so we'd have to run some more adds to fill in the page space. Our Head Layout Editor was out with a case of the laughing cold, and her assistant was having trouble filling in the position. Saturday from morning till afternoon was filled with problem after problem arose and I was in and out off the press room, talking to Daddy, easing arguments between the Chief Editor and her lackey.

It wasn't until nearly four thirty in the afternoon that I had an inch of breathing space, and I took myself off to Daddy's office to sit for a minute.

"You're doing very well," Daddy said with a slight smile over the rim of his coffee mug. I smiled back and reached for the other mug of coffee. Four creams, two sugars went in. I loved sweet coffee.

"Still so much to do, though." I took a sip. "I keep forgetting to ask you - any word from the write-in on those Keffler Bugs in North Hampton?"

"Article came in yesterday," he said. "Three pages and I need you to get it down to one and a half."

"Pre-deadline?"

"Midnight. Karen will look over it herself." Karen was the Chief Editor. I didn't want to deal with any more fights between herself and her assistant but it was looking like I was in for that anyway.

"Eventually we're going to have to move Cherise to a different apartment." I took another sip of my sweet coffee. "The two of them haven't been working well from day one, and that disagreement over the Spotted Horned Toads sighting in Kensington has made things worse."

Daddy looked at me in that considering way that told me that I'd just done something correctly in the business. I smiled, he caught it, and smiled back.

"Lune, I know that you should be getting home soon."

Quick switch of topics. I didn't have to ask why. Daddy and I understood each other without speech most of the time. It was a good thing.

"I will," I responded. "But will you be staying until tomorrow morning for the print?"

He nodded. This, after all, was the first time  _The Quibbler_ was back in publication after the War. It was an important edition. I sighed and took another sip of the coffee.

"I'll be home in an hour tops, Daddy. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Daddy put down his mug and started rifling through papers on her his desk. He pulled a stack of papers and held them out to me. I smiled slowly. Break time was as good as over with head honcho ordering me back to the press-room. "Take these to Karen for me?"

I drained the rest of the cup, placed it on the table, and took the sheaf of papers.

"Yes, sir."

Took the papers, went out on my way, encountered more problems in the hour I had left. By the time I left work, the sky was dark and I was standing in front of the small building that housed everything needed to run _Quibbler_  comfortably. I remained still for a minute and tilted my head backwards to look at the sky. A slight breeze lifted my hair, had some of it floating in front of me. I stared through the gold to the sparkle-studded darkness above.

 _Stars_ , I thought to myself.  _Pretty stars out tonight._

I'd always loved the night - probably always will. I closed my eyes and shook the hair away from my face. It was a pretty night. A very pretty night. And no matter what happened later when I got home, it'd still be that way. That was always good to know.

"It's Gin. I've been trying to reach you for the last two hours!"

The anxiety in her voice immediately put me on edge.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Hermione fainted at Florean's and we're at St. Mungoes." I breathed deeply. That could mean any number of things but since I'd known what they'd been meeting up for..."Knocked her head hard on the edge of the table and there was blood."

Her betrothed then. Reaction to her betrothed.

"I'll be there right away," I said, "and I'll call you when I get there, alright."

I didn't bother heading back into the building to let my father know, but isntead immediately apparated to my favorite magical place in London. Diagon Alley wasn't very far from the hospital but I'd still have to take a cab to get there. So much time wasted, but as long as Hermione was alright...As soon as I'd hailed a cab, which I was getting much better and better at thanks to Harry, I flipped out the cellphone to let him know what was going.

"Daddy, I'm on my way to St. Mungoes."

"What has happened?" he asked, concern evident.

"Hermione took hard knock to the head during a fainting fit so I'm going to go see what's happening," I said. "I have no idea what happened.

"Alright, poppet, call me when you get there."

"I will."

When I finally arrived in the massive lobby for the hospital, I had to take a minute to orient myself. No use asking for her at the desk, best to call Gin again and have her come get me. I was just reaching for what seemed the upteemth time in the day for my phone when a deep familiar voice sounded behind me.

"Luna?"

I turned to see Dean walking towards me. So tall and quite confident - the crowd simply moved out of the way of their own will. A little part of me laughed at the speed one short wizard used to sidestep Dean. Funny thing though - his size didn't mean he was mean. In fact, Dean was pretty much the gentle giant most of the time. Or rather, the laughing giant. He was always cheerful, always willing to help, very kind but a cutting sense of humor. I hadn't seen him in over twenty-four hours - a record for us since we'd made it a habit into seeing each other very regularly. I hadn't even had a chance to call him all day either though I'd thought about it after the call with Ginny. I supposed that's what work will do to you. So I was really happy to see him. Although I'm almost always happy to see him. I supposed seeing friends will do that to you. He looked as happy to see me as I felt to see him. I smiled briefly when he pulled me into a hug but then pulled back when I was released.

"Do you know the room number?" I asked without preamble.

He nodded.

"Let's go then."

* * *

 

/-|-\ 

_"I always fall for the wrong ones, don't I?"- Dean carelessly to Seamus second Year, watching Lavender Brown stroll by on the arm of yet another boy._

* * *

It's not so much that I don't believe in love. Believe me, I believe in love. But I've never loved and been loved in return. I guess I just don't have what it takes for that instant attraction to happen - I might be tall, dark, and pretty attractive, but I'm not mysterious. I am what you might call the 'nice' guy. And you know what they say about nice guys? 

That we usually finish last.

You would think that girls would be motivated romantically to look past the nice-guy exterior but that's just not the case. And the ironic truth? That at the core of what makes me Dean Thomas is geniality. I am a simple guy, and at the end of the day, I would rather be kind and humurous than sharp and cruel. I am more inclined to be sunny than to be moody - Merlin knows that I don't have a brooding bone in my body. Not much has ever angered me past the point of no return, but the few times that I was well and truly upset, it tapered off slowly. Anger is a rather heady thing- I don't like it when it appears and I certainly don't much like myself when I'm furious. It's an unfamiliar part of me.

It's not nice.

I guess that's why I take such stock in the knowledge that I'm a good guy, that everyone knows and understands and pegs me as the good guy. That's the Dean Thomas that I'm familiar with. That's the Dean Thomas who I'm most comfortable being. Perhaps there's a part of me that longs for something not so stable...perhaps that's the part of me that drew me to Lavender Brown. Lavender Brown, one of the prettiest girls in my Year. She had lovely brown hair and lively eyes and every time I caught a glimpse of her my First Year, she was laughing or entertaining friends. She was a bit snooty, and not a little bit selfish, but I couldn't bring myself to mark those down at faults. And that's when I understood that I liked her.

Things that should have been flaws, should have turned me away from or off of her, did not. I thought of her as a bit spirited, perhaps flighty, always willing to have her way, but not a bad sort. Looking back at those first few years, not a bad sort at all.

I don't know too much about love. But I do believe that love is something that grows with time. I think that you can fall in love with most anybody, and I think often than not, it's those around you that you fall in love with. At least it had been for me.

These days, I don't give love a great deal of thought. I've been trying not to miss my oldest friend, been visiting his family to make sure they are okay. I've been concentrating on doing the best I can to get my license, which would mean more money to support the Finnegans and my grandparetns, mother, brothers and sisters with. Not that money has ever really been a worry in my household - when Dad died six years ago, he'd made enough provisions in life to save us from undue expenses in death. That said a lot about the kind of man my father was - careful, protective, always looking to take care of everything. And I missed him more now than I did before - I missed him every day. Money wasn't a problem though, especially since Nai's band had skyrocketed in fame and money was not tight. But I want them to live more than comfortably, want to be able to give my mother even more breathing room and be able to put aside some to build us a nice family fortune base. For my oldest friend's family, I want to take care of them. I want to ease a little bit of Mr. Finnegan's worries about his farm, make Mrs. Finnegan smile more often. I suppose you can say I want a lot and I am determined to accomplish it.

Family is family, above all else. And there's absolutely nothing I wouldn't do to protect and take care of me and mine.

That's another kind of all-consuming love, isn't it? But I love hard, certainly, and growing up around so many women means I'm not afraid to admit or show it. When I love, I love hard. No surprise it had taken me so long to fall out of love with Lavender Brown those years ago. Perhaps thats why it took me so long to figure out the potential of what was given to me. When it finally happened, I was so blind to the possibility that I just didn't see it. Or perhaps, I refused to see it.

Perhaps.

"So what's the plan today?"

My younger sister Adrienne was sprawled comfortably on the rugs in front of the fireplace, her chin resting on her arms as she stared at me. Quiet and almost painfully shy, Adi is one of my very most favorite people in the world. She was a Third-Year Hufflepuff beginning in the Fall, and I couldn't have been more proud of her if I tried. My older sister Naira and I often joked that she would have made a fine scholar in her past life, but truth be told, Adrienne Thomas was so smart that sometimes I was surprised by the fact that she was thirteen and not thirty-five.

"Good question." I pondered as I reached for two slices of buttered toast on the coffee table. God bless the house I grew up in - the place would always mean comfort for me. "Anything you want to do, Adi. But remember that the twins are coming along this time."

"Go to the park?"

Cornelius Park? I thought about it and decided it mightn't be a bad idea. Better that than somewhere else where the six year-old twins Sophie and Sammie might get into some trouble. Again. Good thing I had a built-in radar that sounded when they were about to wander into a danger zone. I smiled at my little sister and finished off the toast.

"Sounds good."

"Dean?" My mother's voice called. Sounded like she was somewhere nearabouts the kitchen. I uncurled myself from the couch with a slight groan, smiled at Adi again, and set about to find my mother. I loved this house though it was not where I lived any longer. This place would always be home to me, with its long corriders and sprawling rooms.  _Home_ , I always thought when I got here to visit my family for the weekends.  _This place is still home._

"Mum?"

"In the kitchen!"

Ah, my favorite place. She need not have said any more - I was there in three or four strides at most. Poked my head in to see her sitting down in the chair next to the large glass-windows. My mother, Carrie Thomas, was one of the strongest women I'd ever known. When I was little I followed her around whenever Dad wasn't home (Naira claims that my love of all things food stems from this since 'mum' used to equal 'grub' to me. I think she's wrong, though.) and my mother would tell me all sorts of stories. Funny stories about what it was like for her growing up, sad stories about Grandpa's first heart attack and what it was like for her to almost lose him, happy stories about how she met my father. And I absorbed all the stories like a sponge, so much so that when harder sadder times came, it was me telling the stories to my younger siblings.

She worked for an all-witches health magazine and doubled as one of the emerging voices lobbying for an integration of technology and magic. She was popular writer and loved her job. I think people were always quite surprised to meet her. Tall, confident, but rather young. She'd married almost right out of Hogwarts so she was younger than many parents but life had given her the sense of age and wisdome that people who  _haven't_  had personal loss never gain.

"Shouldn't you be getting the letter today?" No preamble - just cutting into my thoughts. That was Mama.

I shrugged and walked over to fold her in my arms. Warm, direct, clear -  _that_  was my Mama.

Truthfully, I'd given the letter a great deal of thought and decided that in the end, it didn't matter very much I was tied to. It bothered me that the liberty of choosing had been taken out of my hand. It bothered me that it felt like forcing love. But I had no one important to me in that way at the moment. So, it wasn't like they were destroying anything, per se. I just hoped that whoever she was, I could stand her. I didn't want to be tied down to someone who would make me unhappy. It's just that I would do my best to make this thing work, as much as it would be able to, and even if love didn't grow out of it, happiness would.

"I'll get it when I get it," I said with a smile, looking down at her. "It's not more important than coming to see you all on weekends."

"Sometimes I wonder how you got to be so good," she said, patting my face.

"You, of course," I teased her. "You and Dad, of course."

She laughed and then wormed her way out of my arms to get a letter on the hardwood kitchen table. It definitely did not escape my notice that there was a platter of assorted fruit on the table.

"Letter from Grandpa and Grandma Blake?"

She nodded. "If you're free next weekend for sure, we'll go up to see them."

"Gives me time to get that new book on spell-casting that Gramps wanted," I said and took the letter, still eyeing the fruit platter. Could I get to the fruit before we went out to the park?

"Question...where are Sophia and Samuel?"

Good question. The house was a little bit too quiet - which almost always meant that the twins were solemnly up to no good. I grimaced then kissed my mother's cheek.

I left the kitchen and headed up the stairs to the big playroom that Nai and I had decorated a few years ago for the younger kids. Surprisingly enough, Sophie and Sammie were being  _good_  and playing nicely with their toys instead of ripping holes through the walls or something just as mischievious. When I pushed the heavy door open I found Sophie in the corner puzzling through the words of a book and Sammie playing with a massive blue carriage toy, and a miniature magic carpet. I didn't like the carpet since Sammie would definitely get on it and fall from some distance but maybe the pain would get him to stop doing that? For a minute, I just stood in the doorway and looked at the two of them. Sammie was strong for his age, surprisingly so, and a bit of a smart-alec at that. I swear, one day his quick responses were going to get him into trouble. He didn't look like me at all (I took after my mother almost entirely) but instead was a mini-version of our Dad. Looking at him was like looking at the photographs of Dad when he was younger. Same smile, same stance. Our mother often said he was like Dad's parting gift since Dad died four months after the twins were born. Sophie was a pretty little thing who looked a lot like Nai and Adi, except she was really girly with those red ribbons in her pigtails and turquoise studs in her ears. She'd been determined to convince Mama to get her jewelry since she learned to talk, and she'd been winning the war for almost two months.

"You two look surprisingly innocent," I spoke up finally. "Imagine that."

The two looked up, dropped the toys and ran. I came all the way in and got down on my knees so I could catch them when they barreled into me at the same time. And barrel they did.

"Dean!"

I hugged them close before releasing them so I could rock back on my heels and sit on the floor. Immediately, they clambered into my lap.

"Where are we going today?" asked Sammie.

"The park, I think," I said, looking down at him. "And if you can take care of watching your toys, you can each bring one."

"Okay," Sophie said. Almost absently she reached up to rub one of my ears. Kids and their habits - I'm sure Adi used to do the same thing to Nai all the time when she was little. Matter of fact, I probably did it to Nai too. "But I want an apple," said Sophie.

"Are we leaving now?" asked Sammie.

I'd have my hands full with these two all day.

"We'll get an apple before we go," I said with a smile. That fruit bowl was looking more and more likely all the time. Sophie was a girl after my own heart, I swear it. "Soon as Mama says yes, we can go."

Sammie clambered out of my lap before apparently thinking better of it and clambering back in. He lifted a little arm, stretched out his fingers, and  _wham_  the carriage came up off the carpet and hurtled through the air towards us. I couldn't help my raised eyebrows as I watched.  _Already getting so good at it?_  I thought, slightly awed by the way the thing jerked in the air right before it hit us. What crazy control. I'm not sure I'd ever seen a child with so much control. I watched Sammie snatch the toy out of the air and then lean back to cuddle in my arms. I kissed the top of his head, then the top of Sophie's.

"Down to the kitchen then."

I stood with the two of them cradled comfortably in an arm each, wished the door closed behind me, and strode down the hallway.

"Adi," I called as I got past her bedroom, "are you ready to go? Mama's packed food and the rest of us are!"

Some garbled girl-scream that I took to be acquiescence sounded through the door.

"Maybe she's not ready yet," said Sophie with a wise shake of her head. I laughed.

"Perhaps. Let's get you that apple now, though."

"Okay."

Down to the kitchen we went, past our mother to the basket standing on the table. Since she had a deadline to make tonight and it was already past noon, the four of us would be going by ourselves. Then we should be back in time to receive Naira, who was coming back for a week from tour with her all-girl's rock band  _The Noisettes_. Naira was the eldest Thomas, and the person I was closest to in my family. We were only two and a half years apart, which means that where Adi and the twins had always clearly been the ones I protected, Nai and I had been inseperable growing up. Almost on the same level, I think. And God, knows I missed her when she was gone and loved it when she was back. Nai had left Hogwarts early to pursue a career in music. Dad hadn't agreed with her choice but he'd supported her when she'd set her mind to it. Mama had embraced it whole heartedly (the two of them have a feminist thing going) and it hadn't been long before she'd found three other girls who loved music the same way she did. The band was supposed to coming along too, which was good, since Holly, Meredith and Brooke were like family anyway.

"I'm ready!" said Adi when she appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Shall we?"

In next to no time (okay, no, twenty minutes later), the four of us were out and about in Cornelius Park. It was a pretty nice day for summer - not bright but certainly not as overcast as it could be. The twins were running ahead of us, and surprise surprise, we were holding their toys. I'd told them not to get too far ahead and hoped that they would listen. It was already almost three o'clock, after all, and they were bound to get tired soon. We'd been gamboling about for nearly two hours. It was a good thing Sophie and Sammie were distracted ahead of us since there was a look on Adrienne's face that said she had something she wanted to say.

"What's up, baby Adi?" I asked, using the nickname I'd used on her when she was much younger.

"Don't call me that," she protested. She made a face at me and ducked out from the hand that was heading to pat her head. "And don't do that either, Dean."

I laughed and settled for brushing back her hair as we walked.

"But really, what's on your mind, little sis?"

"Just thinking about school this year." She swung her arms and looked around the dark green grass, and the tall leafy trees as we walked. I did the same, sensing that this wasn't something I could prod out of her. Better to let her talk, I think. "Just thinking about how different Third year will be."

"It will be different," I said. "It was fun for me."

A fleeting sense of loss hit me as I thought about the person who had been so integral to all my years at Hogwarts.  _Seamus._  I swallowed the loss and continued.

"I think you'll like all the new classes that you get to take. And with that extra-curricular writing course you signed up for with Professer Macabre?" I waggled my eyebrows at her to get a laugh. It worked. "You won't even want to come home."

"You won't be there," she said softly.

"I know." I chucked her under the chin. "But you know what else I know? That you are stronger than you think. "

Adi looked so comically dubious that I had to laugh a little bit.

"It's not just because I'm your brother. You are, even if I can't convince you of that. All I can say is that you'll see just how true that is this year."

The dubious look passed. Adi now looked pensive. A small part of me wanted to wrap her up in a bubble so she'd protected from the rest of the world but that's not so. She'd always hung close to Nai and me - too shy to make any friends in school. But she had to learn, to experience. There was nothing I could do but stand by her if she needed it.

"You think so?"

I nodded and smoothed her wild hair back again. "I know it."

She smiled, reassured. I breathed a little bit easier. She was happy for now, at least for a little while. And we had all of summer ahead of us before anything happened.  _Good thi-_  The loud ringing of my cellphone cut off any train of thought. I reached into my trouser pockets and snagged it.

"Hello?" Ron's familiar voice came through the phone.

"Hey mate, what's up?"

"Almost at Florean's," he responded. I could hear the hum of busy streets like white noise in the background. "I take it you haven't even been back to the apartment yet?"

The apartment the four of us shared - Harry, Neville, Ron and me.

"Nope," I said. "Nai's coming home today, remember?"

He made a sound of assent and I chuckled.

"I suppose we'll get to see who it is tomorrow for you then."

"Who are you thinking of for yourself?"

A pause, like Ronald Bilius Weasley was really thinking about it.

"Merlin knows I haven't the faintest."

That was God's truth for all of us.

"And Harry?" I didn't really have to specify the question. We just hoped everything came together and he was meant to be with Ginny. Because it would kill them both to be with any others.

"Alright," he said, in a way that made me think that the bloke in question was in the near vicinity. I sighed

"I'll be back late, I think."

"Cool. Send your family hugs and tell the twins I'll have presents for them next time." I smiled. Ron was turning into a favorite Uncle with the entire family. I suppose it's something the two of us share, coming from relatively big families. "Oh, and Harry and I'll still be up, bro. We want to see you open that thing."

I rolled my eyes then remembered he couldn't see me.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell everyone you said hello."

Clicked off to find Adi watching me with a smile on her face.

"What?"

"Ron?"

The girl was clairvoyant. Maybe.

"Yeah," I replied, taking her arm to continue walking again, "and he says hello."

/-|-\

"Welcome home!"

Back at home in the evening and Naira and her band had  _finally_  arrived. They'd taken that godawful bus to get here, and looked little rattled for it, but were intact and happy to be so. The four of them had stepped off the bus with their luggage floating next to them in front of our home (lucky us, that the bus stopped here), all leather jackets and sunglasses as if they'd need it during an English summer. Just gos to show you what fame will do to you, I suppose. The minute they were off the bus, Mama and Adi I surrounded them. There was a lot of laughter and crowing from Adi, and giggling from the twins as they swamped her legs. It was only after Sammie reached up to touch her belt that I noticed that Nai's hair was dyed pink. Don't ask me how it slipped by me. All I know is that when I noticed, I rolled my eyes - last time it'd been green...so I suppose bubblegum pink was an improvement. Mama took one look at Nai's hair, opened up her mouth to say something, thought better of it and let the thought go. Naira and I shared a look then began laughing at the same time.

"Dean, you really need to stop growing," she said, hugging me tight. She was tall just like our mother but after the growth spurt I'd experienced right before Final Year, no female ever came up past mid-chest for me. She was the closest.

"I've missed you too, Nai." I released her and spun her around. "Older sis's got a brand-new hairdo. Had to find a way to make things interesting for yourself, eh?"

She punched me in the arm but grinned. "Always."

The visit doubled as a way to spend time with family and a way to get her letter. The rest of the band fell under the rule just the same way I did, and it had been easier to schedule in a break in the tour than to not go on tour at all when the news had leaked. In any case, I planned on spending the week at home as much as possible.  _Or as much as possible with my own sorta-kinda coming change on the way..._ I pushed the thought out of my mind and grinned at my sisters who were indulging in something every girly.

"Dean, you got taller?" This from the short dark-haired Brooke who was pulling her guitar straps as she spoke.

"I sure did, ma'am."

She shook her head and motioned me over. "Come over here and greet the rest of us properly!"

I did but deliberately walked slowly to irritate them. There was twenty-two year old Brooke of course, drummer and sometime-back up singer to Naira's man vocals. Even though she was short, she was as larger-than-life, perhaps the loud abrasive  _I don't care_  girl of the group. Meredith Hunter was only slightly taller than Brooke even though she was a year younger, with pale skin that complimented her strawberry blonde hair, and a soft cultured voice that had you startled that she wasn't from one of the old wealthy Pureblood families. She was the lyric-writer of the group, and helped orchestrate and compose almost all of the melodies, with input from everyone else of course. Holly was stout and friendly, solid, and good-natured with a voice like an angel and a gift for the guitar. How Naira had managed to find such talented girls in the short time since she'd left school, I don't know. But I  _did_  know that  _The Noisettes_  were on their way up in the magical world.

I went through them all, giving everyone a hug and/or a high-five before the twins came in and distracted the rest of the band. Only then did I lean back to catch my mother's eyes and motion us inside the house. Soon we were seated at the dinner table, saying grace, and digging in to the feast Mama had prepared while we were gone. If there was one thing that was instilled in me at home, it was always family gathered at the dinner table. Always. Even if we'd been doing our own thing all day, we all had to get together and eat together for meals. It was one thing that had never changed.

"What are we going to do all week?" asked Adi eagerly, looking at Brooke and Holly. Those two had lost most of their family in the War, and what was left, they weren't close to. They would be staying here with us in the meantime. Which meant their letters would probably also find their ways here too. "If you could take me to another concert, that would be neat!"

"There aren't any concerts that I know of going on," said Brooke shaking her long hair out as she looked around the table to Melanie. "Heard of any?"

Meredith shook her head too and looked at Adi.

"We'll find out and take you if there are, chickee."

Adi looked dissapointed for a minute before she got into her food. A look passed over her head from Merry to Brooke.  _Aha,_ I thought to myself. There  _was_  a concert in town, and Adrienne Thomas was definitely going to see that concert...even if she didn't know it yet. Trust the two of them to turn it into a surprise outing for her. Talk turned into discussion of the tour, and how the band was holding up for it. This week would double as a break and a reason to be in England during this big time of change. After all, the Ministry's clause said any one age 16 and upwards that was a citizen of the state. That meant that Naira and her bandmaes needed to be here to get their letters and they had a week to figure out what to do about it before the tour resumed in Bulgaria. A week seemed like an awfully short amount of time to me - to be with family and to sort out this new massive affair. I hadn't even gotten a chance to really wrap my head around it and I had most of the summer to make it work.

Bully for them though, for trying though.

Halfway through the meal, my cellphone was ringing again. I excused myself from the table and headed out to the atrium to take the call.

"Hey mate, it's me." Ron, again. "Hermione's in the hospital."

"What?" I stood, shocked.

"Fainted at Florean's but smashed her head into a table on the way down. She's been out cold for the last two hours and we're in the room with her."

I started for the closet door, reached in and grabbed my cloak one-handed all the while holding on to the cellphone.  _Bloody hell_.

"Called Mr. and Mrs. Granger yet?"

"Dad's on his way to get them."

"I'll be there as soon as I can then," I said shortly.

"Good. Remember, room 1125, seventh floor in Wicca Wing."

With an abrupt click, I shut the phone off and headed back into the kitchen to give everyone the news.

"Will she be okay?" asked Adi, fearful and quiet. Her face said she was remembering the time not so long ago this year when someone in the hospital meant someone dying. Hard to shake the remnants of war. I knew I agreed.

"She'll be okay," I said with a smile that I didn't really mean. "I'm sure of it. I'll call you all when I get there, alright?"

With further reassurances, I made my exit and Apparated immediately to the heart of busy night-time London: Diagon Alley. It would be a short cab ride from here as long as the driver stepped on the pedal. And by heaven, I made sure he did. Fifteen minutes later I was wondering whether to go up the left or right staircase of the massive building that was St. Mungoes. You could get let lost in this place if you had no idea where you were going. And you would get lost if you didn't get a competent receptionist or have a Healer and a map to get you to the correct ward. I stood in the lobby, ignoring the long line, and looked for a map. When I'd figured out the way, I turned and- 

Luna. I'd know that golden hair anywhere.

"Luna?"

She turned, her hair spilling over shoulders like silk on the black of the cloak. If anyone had told me years ago that I would be friends with the infamous Loony Lovegood, I'd have laughed myself breathless and then laughed some more. But it had happened, and not only were we friends, but I was even closer to her than I was to Ron and Harry. Surprise, that. Before the War and because of Neville, we'd been pretty good aquaintances. I'd never thought of her as crazy, even though the rest of the student body had, and I'd certainly never shunner her. But it was during the War, in the middle of all that pain and fear and warfare, that we really became best mates. She'd been at my back and I at hers and Neville's so many times that it had been natural to confide in her so much. She'd been the one to keep me sane after Seamus's death. And it was over her kidnapping that I'd gone crazy...tearing down walls, maiming wizards - hell, I'm sure I would have willingly killed for her that night. Damned I would be if I had to bury another one of my friends. She'd understood a little bit of that dark part, and she and Neville had helped me more than anyone to pick up the pieces and stop the rage after he was gone. It would have been infinitely harder without them.

"Luna," I said happily, with a smile blooming on my face. She smiled back slowly, in that infinitely calm way of hers, and I nearly laughed. She'd always been a puzzle to me. I pulled her in for a hug as soon as I'd reached her, then let her go when the smile began to fade.

"Do you know the room number?"

I nodded.

"Let's go then.

I turned to lead her down the right hallway to the elevators that would take us up the eleventh floor. We'd have to find an aide when we got up there to locate the right wing but at least we were on the right track.

"How did deadline day go?" I asked her.  _The Quibbler_ was all set to publish their first grand edition since the end of the War tomorrow morning. She'd been busy all week just with those preparations, which explained why I hadn't seen her since Thursday afternoon's brunch at Lovegood Manor.

"Really good," she responded with that same slow smile. "Really good. Well, as good as it could."

"Eric didn't mess up at all?" I teased. "No layouts to fix? No ink print gone?"

Her eyes widened slightly. "How did you know?"

"I'm right?" I asked, slightly astonished. I'd been kidding.

"You are," she replied, "almost down to the tee. I had to run into Diagon Alley to get the ink and certainly had to fix the layouts. Eric was great today though."

I smiled at her as she talked, interrupted when appropriate with a question, teased when I could. When the elevator slid to a slow stop, we got disembarked and headed down the hallway. Automatically, I slowed down so that she could keep up. She was only the teensiest bit taller than Hermione which made her rather short. And she was light enough that I could pick her up and toss her if I so desired. Not that I'd ever do it...although it was interesting thought.

"Left or right?"

I tuned back in and decided left, definitely left. Two more long corridors and we were standing in front of Room 1125. For a minute, we stood there and looked at each other. Then Luna took an audibly deep breathe and pushed the door open. Hermione lay on the bed, chest falling in time with the beat of her breathing. Harry and Ron stood like guards at either side of the foot of the bed, while Ginny was sitting in a chair holding Mione's hand. They looked up all at the same time when we entered.

"How is she?" I asked as I strode the rest of the way into the room. Luna immediately went to the bed to hug Gin briefly before she sat down in the empty chair next to her.

The boys greeted me first, and I clapped Ginny on the shoulders, before I retreated to hear Harry softly answered the question.

"She's fine...blow to her head and shock." Harry shook his head and looked at the girl lying prone on the bed. "Quite frightening though - she hit her head so hard that there was blood."

"It was audible," added Ron worriedly. "Swear to God, there was so much blood. But then again, surface head wounds bleed like that anyway."

 _Merlin only knew he who her betrothed was_...I was almost afraid to ask.

"And her letter?"

An exchange of looks. This couldn't be anything good.

"Draco Malfoy."

"What?" That was certainly not a name I'd been expecting. Nor was I happy to hear it. In fact, I was shocked and angry. Could the Ministry be any wronger about these matches than they'd been in the first place? I dropped my voice when Gin gave me a look. "Hell, I'd faint deadway too."

Ron snorted. Clearly, someone agreed with me. Harry looked pensive but remained quiet. Harry had changed quite a bit in the last few months - the volatile anger that had motivated him during school melting away into a...kind of...strange melancholy. In many ways, he was more adult than the rest of his - wiser than his years, older than his age - and I think that nearly dying in the Last Battle had cemented that change. this was no longer the old Harry Potter. Not at all. With Harry's moodiness slowly giving way to a mature thoughtfulness, that could mean anything from 'I agree' to 'I wouldn't say that'. And knowing Harry, he wouldn't say anything.

I stepped forward and took one of Hermione's free hands and squeezed. She looked asleep, her breathing even and deep, although there was a purple bruise alarmingly close to her temple on the right soide of her face. A hell of a shock to receive. Where I mereley disliked the bloke, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were like blood feud enemies - always opposing sides, forever bearing grudges, no bridge to be built over. I smoothed the blanket over her like she was like a kid to be coddled, then resumed my place among the guys.

"Where are the Grangers? I thought they'd be here when I arrived."

"Dad's on his way with them - should be here any minute." Ron looked around as if there would be some time-telling apparatus. "Soon, though."

"How much did he tell them?"

"Everything," said Harry. I was sure the Grangers wouldn't be pleased either - I'm told they'd met Lucius Malfoy once by accident and he had been civil but incredibly rude. "Everything. But they mostly just want 'Mione to be okay."

I nodded and we settled into chairs behind the girls while waiting for Hermione to wake up. If she would wake up today, anyway. Two hours and a short nap later, everyone was awakened by the sound of the Grangers coming in with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. All five of us left the room

"You two?"

Ron's face took on a thoughtful cast just like the one Harry had had on a minute ago. Before I could verbally congratulate him on the mature look, his face edged towards slight distaste.

"Padma Patil."

Vast improvement over the Draco Malfoy predicament although Ron didn't seem to be enthused or disappointed either way.

"Huh," I finally said. "Huh. Why the look?"

He looked surprise. "What look?"

I stared at him for a minute. Sometimes, he was so startlingly self-aware. Other times... _Other times, he was not._

"Never mind." He stared back at me, but let the matter drop.

"You Harry?"

Finally, a smile broke out on Harry's face. Didn't have to ask. I reached out and clapped him on the shoulders.

"Congratulations, mate," I said in a cheerful whisper lest Gin turn that look on me again, "though we all knew it would turn out fine."

Well, things were working out just fine for one of us at the very least. Could I hope that it would work out 'just fine' for me too?

* * *

 

After Hermione's parents arrived with the rest of the Weasley's in tow, Hermione woke up. Extremely angry and in a lot of pain. But at least she was awake - it was enough to speak to her, touch her hand, and then leave her to her parents and her rest for the night. Outside the door, we split up. Usually Dean came over to the Lovegood Place a few times a week with Neville, so he picked tonight to do it. It wasn't all that late when we finally got home. Daddy wouldn't be back until the next day anyway, so I had the house all to myself. Truth be told, it had been a long stressful day and I was tired. But...

_The letter._

I was really happy for Ginny and Harry - the doubt had been there and the Ministry had banished it. But Mione's situation was an all-together different cup of tea. She was betrothed to an enemy, and an ex-Death Eater at that. Don't misunderstand - the hatred for much of the Dark Side still thrived in this day and age. It was bordering on half a year since the Last Battle but a lot had been lost in the wizarding world - culture, loved ones, a way of life. But peace was the main thing now. We, the people, wanted peace. If another war never broke out as long as we lived, people would be happy. And so with the Ministry's promise to cut down the work and I find the 'love of your life' for you, I suppose most of us had forgotten that they'd really meant what they said.

"A mixing of lines" they'd called it. A mixing of lines indeed.

As soon as I lowered the ground wards and unlocked the door, Dean made a beeline for the kitchen. I let out a small breath of laughter as I watched him disappear into the house, then laughed earnestly when he stopped to see why I'd been making that sound. Without having to say anything, he understood. And rolled his eyes. And left me to laugh as he sped ahead to the kitchen anyway.

My house wasn't very big as far as houses go but there were two distinct areas of the house. The ground floor was the visiting area and my father's area - the place where our large comfortably-looking living room was, the kitchen and two bathrooms, Daddy's office adjoining two rooms - Mum's old experiment room, and Dad's current one. He'd kept Mum's room just as she left out of sentimentality, so I could go in there and feel a bit of her when I was little. These days I go to the Sunroom which is upstairs in my domain - sunny yellow walls and all of her belongings are there. Now, I went in there when I was a little bit lonely and needed to be surrounded by her things, breathe in the familiar scent. Sometimes I went in early in the morning and fell asleep on the windowseat, or I'd go through the old photo albums. I loved that room very much. It was the connection to a mother I missed everyday, like an ache that never really went away.

"Luna?" I turned to hear his deep voice coming from the kitchen. Just as I noticed the sound of the dishes going and the sounds of pots and pans being banged around. "I feel like cooking. What do you want to have?"

So we'd fallen into this pattern months ago. I'm not ashamed to admit that I am a terrible cook. There are two dishes that I do really well - exceptionally well, actually, and I'm not sure why - but I only cooked on very special occasions. Beef casserole with stuffed red and green peppers, and sweetcorn dumplings. Otherwise, Daddy did it. To save us from imminent death and house fires, at any rate. Whenever Dean came over he managed to cook up so much that Daddy and I were usually set for at least a week. Small wonder my father loved Dean so much, wasn't it?

"Luna?" He was already growing impatient. I padded down the long corrider and turned right, into the kitchen. He was already going through cupboards and pulling out ingredients when he turned to me. Water was already boiling on the stove, and as I watched potatoes were peeling and cutting in the sink. An errant salt shaker did its thing above them, and a deep dish pan full of some creamy orange sauce was going in the oven. Sometimes I wondered how it is that he'd mastered starting a meal so fast. And then I remembered that he was probably born in the kitchen. I smiled at him before I caught sight of something more important. The stack of letters on the counter across from him.

"Make sure there's corn somewhere on the menu," I said absently as I moved forward and reached for the mail on the table. There it was - in official Ministry hand. Stamped, black ink. I didn't have any enemies that I wouldn't want to be connected with but I still felt a little thrill of something as I picked up the letter. I leaned against the counter with the letter in hand, and looked up at Dean who was busily working away at the rest of his preparations.

_Better now than never._

 

> To Miss Luna Lovegood, 
> 
> As you may or may not know, as of today, the Ministry of Magic has begun owling out letters to witches and wizards of ages 16 through 29, stating their betrothed in an arranged marriage that we have deemed suitable. These matches are not random. In fact, we have devised a way of determining the perfect wife and husband for each of the single wizards under our Ministry, though the public is not privy to the particulars of the process. 
> 
> The reason for arranged marriage is simple. We are matching wizards and witches with their soul mates, the ones that have the greatest potential of providing mutual happiness. A happy couple would logically lead happy lives. No evil, no new Voldemort. Just happiness. Though we don't fool ourselves into believing that all strife will be erased, everyone will be a lot happier if they are with the one they love, and the Ministry has eliminated the search. 
> 
> The two betrothed will need to make a blood link, and this will be explained in detail if need be. They will have to spend time with each other, so that they get used to each other; the auras of the respective man and woman have to realign themselves with each other. They will need to be in each other's presence regularly, otherwise great fatigue will trouble both. Cheating poses dire consequences to the  faithful  one and there is no divorce. 
> 
> The one we pick for you is your soul mate. We know this, without a doubt. But it's up to you two to make it happy marriage, though your personalities may clash. 
> 
> Miss Luna Lovegood, you're betrothed is Mr. Dean Thomas. 
> 
> Please be sure to get in touch with your betrothed as soon as possible and get all necessary paperwork owled to the Ministry of Magic in a punctual magic. You will receive more information pertaining only to the female half of things. More will be explained later. 
> 
> From all here, we wish you good luck with your marriage. Have a magical day! 
> 
> Signed,  
>  Ministry of Magic 

I think I gasped softly. I never gasp. I... _never_ gasp. Nothing ever moves me to such extreme surprise that I involuntarily gasp. I couldn't even peel my eyes away from the paper for a minute. When I could, my eyes fastened on the back of the man across from me. He was humming now, whistling as he waved a hand and something or other flew out of the cupboard and into his waiting grasp. He hadn't caught on yet.

_Heavens..._

Dean? I stared at him while the emotions. Couldn't absorb it. Dean? Couldn't bring myself to believe it.

"Dean?"

"Eh?" he said over his shoulders. He turned around and dusted his hands on his dark jeans, smiling and whistling the whole time. I realized at that moment that I had no idea how he would respond. Had never seen him react to a situation like this. He must have caught a hint of something on my face because the smile faded into one of concern. I looked at him silently for a moment. Then with a hand that wasn't even shaking, strangely, I held the letter out to him.

"I think you'd better take a look at this."


	2. Together?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaky ground and new beginnings.

_Life is like one giant Quidditch game. So better be careful or it'll throw you a fast one._ \- Ron's life philosophy as explained to Luna.

* * *

I looked at her face when I understood what it was I was seeing. The Ministry. The letter. Us.

_Together?_

A billion things had sped through my mind as I read the letter. **The reason for arranged marriage is simple.** A billion inconsistent irrevocably unimportant things. **These matches are not random.** So many things that not one could be grasped completely. **In fact, we have devised a way of determining the perfect wife and husband for each of the single wizards under our Ministry, though the public is not privy to the particulars of the process.** And nothing stuck. **A happy couple would logically lead happy lives.** Even when I'd reached the end of the letter, I'd stared at the page blankly. **The one we pick for you is your soul mate. **Miss Luna Lovegood, you're betrothed is Mr. Dean Thomas.**** A minute was all it took for the billion things to devolve to a single thought: us? together?! When I could gather myself and remember to look up at the girl in front of me, she had collected herself. She seemed rather unruffled and calm, and I suppose to the untrained eye, Luna Lovegood would appear so but I knew her better. **We wish you good luck with your marriage.** There was surprise in the depths of her gaze, a tightness around her eyes that smoothed out into her usual look even as I watched. By the time I really looked at her, I thought I'd imagined the look. She was carefully the same. She did it so quickly that I couldn't even get to read what she was feeling. I continued to stand there gazing at her carefully - could she have been any more 'serene' at this moment? Could she have been any more unreadable? It was Luna at her most introverted.

_Together._

Maybe it was shock because I couldn't really think anything more complex than that. Really? Us? The two of us? Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas? Seriously? There had to be some sort of mistake. The Ministry was making a grand mistake with this. I loved her like a loved the rest of my friends. There was nothing sexual about it, nothing of that fast hard sort of wanting that I'd had for Lavender. There was none of that so what in God's name was the Ministry doing putting the two of us together? This is why this sort of impersonal master spell could backfire and hurt the ones it was intended to help. Because obviously they were wrong. Like, really _really_ wrong. They couldn't see anything between us - there was _nothing_ between us. For God's sake, Luna was like...Ginny, who is firmly in my little sister category. Ginny is like an older Adi to me, and if Luna is like Gin, then Luna is also like a sister. And you do not fall in love with sisters. You do not date your sisters. You do not propose and get engaged to your sisters. And you sure as hell can't marry them. Not at all. I mean, not legally anyway. I looked down at the paper in my hands, then looked back up at Luna.

"Unexpected." I said the word in as neutral a tone as I could make it on short notice. I made my face as blank as possible, smoothing out the frown and toning down the intensity of my gaze. If she could handle this, so would I.

"Forget looking for my letter at home, then."

Luna did not smile. Nor could I really blame her. This was not a laughing situation. We stared at each other. There wasn't much to say that the Ministry hadn't ruined. _Fuck_ , I thought to myself. _Fuck. Well, thank you, Ministry for making this awkward._

"Well," Luna finally said. "Well."

Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, but when she opened them there was something unsettled in them. Not as unruffled as she wanted to be. But less than I was. I had no idea what to do with myself now, as if my very presence in the house was really uncomfortable for the both of us. It sure as hell was for me. There was no way that dinner could be anything but stilted now. I would not open my mouth and ruin things before I got a chance to calm down. This sort of situation was not a 'There must be some kind of mistake!' or a 'You cannot be the one for me! You just can't!' type deal. But damned if I knew what to do at the moment.

_Oh, bloody hell._

"Maybe we should sit down?" She asked weakly as she pushed away from the counter and sat down neatly in the chair next to it. I sat down too and looked at the paper in my hands.

"Unexpected, indeed." Her voice sounded choked but when I looked up, she was as unreadable as ever. "The Ministry sure does like to keep us on our toes."

She finally offered a weak smile at her own pseudojoke. I offered her one back.

"It could be worse," I started. "We could be..."

"Hermione."

"Yes, enemies." We stared at each other. I think we were actually _trying_ to convince each other, not ourselves.

"We could."

"I-"

The ringing of the timer made us both jump. Usually it would have brought about a round of ribbing or at the very least, sheepish smiles, but it was too... _tense_ for that. What had started out as a fun evening with Luna had turned into something else entirely. My eyes widened. That was the problem here - it felt as if we were each waiting to figure out the reaction of the other. Well, I was angry. Quite angry. Because they were wrong. What she was? I had no idea. But I didn't know what I wanted her to be. Which means I had no right to be angry if I didn't want her to be angry. Hah. I smoothed the paper out, slowly, methodically. Put it on the table. Got up to take care of the potatoes over the stove, and check on my special spicy squash sauce simmering in the oven. Automatically, I reached for the parsley and the cayenne pepper to season the thawed chicken in the sink.

"It could be worse," I whispered to myself. "It could always be worse."

Nothing from behind me. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulders to see what she was doing. Better to just concentrate on finishing the meal. And maybe beating a hasty retreat after it was done. Right now, I wanted to marshall my feelings and leave the house. Damn but I couldn't have picked a worse night this week to come over.

 _It would have been fine if we **hadn't** been together, _ I thought angrily. _It would have been infinitely better to read this apart, to find this thing out apart. I can't even tell what she feels about it - so calm. And hear I am, ready to kick down the door of the Ministry and demand that they do the spell over. She's like a sister, for God's sake!_ I shook the spices a little bit harder than I intended to - damn, now this was going to be a bit spicier than intended. I closed my eyes and placed my hands on the edges of the sink. The rest of the salting, the magic could handle. _To give up now or endure the evening? Not like I could really give up **now** as in immediately, since I was in the middle of cooking. Thank heavens for small favors, though...If Mr. Lovegood had been here...Oh, decisions, decisions._

Cooking was going to take another half-hour. A very long half-hour. I dreaded so much time spent in this awkward silence. Not very mature, but I was going to ignore the big problem and talk about other things. Big boy enough not to run away but not big boy enough to talk about it immediately, eh? Tomorrow was a different day. Then, we could talk.

Now, not so much.

"So,"I turned with a smile plastered on my face, "so, I'm planning on buying an edition first thing in the morning. What articles in particular should I be looking for?"

/-|-\

Dean had watched me most of the evening, as if I was a ticking bomb that could go off on him at any moment. Was I not being as purposely blank as possible? I've been told that I'm impossible to be read by more than a few people on many occasions so I didn't think the problem was with _me_. But it left me at a crossway all evening since I couldn't pinpoint exactly... _why_...he was doing that. I think he was looking for a way to gauge my feelings. And when he couldn't find one, he retreated back to comfortable conversation. I had to keep reminding myself to be blase because of it - Dean Thomas could read me far too well. And given a chance, he'd probably pick out some stupid nuance of expression that I hadn't realized I was making and mull it over. But his avoidance was equally as difficult. As if we could just smooth this thing over. The entire time I stared at him as he talked about something, I thought about what a mess this could turn out to be. I'd have rathered it be an enemy than a friend because I didn't think our friendship was something lovey-dovey romance could base itself off.

_This is ridiculous._

I am by nature rather direct. I've never seen the point in beating about the bush over something important. Beating the bush is likely to bring out all sorts of creatures that need to be brought out, anyway. Might as well thwack it violently and directly and get to the bottom of the matter...or animals. In any case, I needed this to be a direct deal. Something tangible that we discussed so I could figure out exactly what I was supposed to - do - from now on. Because I had to do something. And he had to do something. And we should...probably...do something. But we would never know what he and I were supposed to do if we didn't talk about it. Have a _tete-a-tete_ immediately. Come to some sort of consensus. An approaching of understanding. So I was going to sit down, stop him in the middle of talking about West Ham soccer and-

"Missed call from home," he said, in the same false cheerful mode he'd been in all evening. And believe me when I know his moods, I know his moods. That smile had 'faux' written all over it. I already knew what that meant. "I'm going to have to run a little bit earlier than planned. You're alright with that, aren't you?"

I didn't even have the chance to respond before he patted me on the arm (patted me? on the shoulders?) swept his cloak over his shoulders and strode out the door. I blinked. Once, twice, three times. _Really, Dean?_ So, he was just going to sidestep the problem and - and - _pat me on the shoulders_ and leave?! Were we already back to that? What, as betrothed I'd been denigrated to the status of aquaintance, not even deserving a hug? I blinked again, gripped the table, counted to one thousand and breathed out slowly. If he wanted to be immature that was his issue, but I wanted to be clear.

"Gin, it's Dean."

"Luna?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, but it's you."

"No, no, it's _Dean_."

Maybe I wasn't getting that through correctly. Or maybe Ginerva Weasley was taking a long time to process.

"It's Dean?" A gasp. "It's Dean?!"

She'd gotten it. Good.

"It's Dean."

More silence. "Wait, does he know?!"

"I opened the letter before dinner."

She gasped, the repercussions hitting her immediately. Opening the letter before dinner, when we left together to _have_ dinner..."Oh Merlin. Get the fireplace ready - I'm coming over."

I'd suspected this much would happen. And heaven knew that I could use some sort of input or support at the moment. _Since he's all set to ignore the problem..._ I took a deep breath before it got to the point where I would need to count outloud. Then I turned on my heels to get to the living room to start the fire. A minute later, my redhead best friend was pulling herself out of the flames and unto the rugs of the living room floor. She shook out her long dark red curls before pinning me with blue eyes. _Oh dear._ That look said that she had a lot on her mind, a lot to say. Although I had no idea what she could have to say about this. I gazed at her warily, then held out a hand for her to take. She used that hand to spin me around and marched me to the kitchen to get the letter.

Which she read outloud. As if she didn't believe me to begin with. And needed documented proof.

"Gin, I told you-"

"Dean." She cut me off with a wondering look. A hand absently ran through her hair before she shook the letter in the air. "You and Dean. Give me an hour to absorb and I bet I can see it."

I stared at her.

"You two together, I mean."

I sighed.

"You can? Because I...am not even sure where to begin to see this." I sighed again and dropped into the seat. Again. "Because clearly he doesn't either. After the letter, he looked as shocked as I'd felt. But then-" I shrugged and swept my hands out in front of me. "Pointed avoidance. As in, it was as if the letter hadn't happened. He talked about how studying for his Exams were going, how Nai was back from tour, how happy was to be able to visit his family all the time, and Neville's letters from So, I don't see how this is going to work."

When I looked up, I was not surprised. Ginny was not really listening to me - nope, just watching me with a look gone speculating. The poor letter was getting crumpled in her hand.

"Actually, I can't see it either. But friendship to romance?" She grinned engagingly and plunked down next to me. "That is as timeless as love itself. _That_ can happen."

I arched my eyebrows. "But you know how I feel."

"Please," she slapped at my arm, "just because it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean it won't happen at all. I think that's a stupid theory and I hope you don't enter this thing with that kind of...fatalistic...stupid...attitude."

It wasn't fatalistic. It was just the way I felt. I didn't suppose a romantic such as Gin, who's boyfriend went back for her in the middle of fighting when she was captured and professed his undying love for her on the battlefield, would understand. No, after such experiences I was going to be closer to Hermione in this thing than anyone else.

"Oi, oi! Daydreaming again?"

"Nothing of the sort," I murmured with a sigh. I picked up my wand and waved it, to set a pot of tea to boil on the stove. Nothing like tea - or gardening - when you're stressed. "You were saying?"

"That you should try a date."

...-that stopped me in my tracks. I stared at her for the second time that day, mid-wand motion. Really stared at her. For all I was worth. But she didn't squirm - which meant she really thought it was a fantastic idea and had no misgivings whatsoever. _A date as in meeting with romantic...er...intent?_ A date was for getting to know someone you liked, according to hearsay. But I already knew Dean, didn't I? He was closer to me in many ways than Gin and Hermione - he was always over here and we talked a lot and I knew he wanted to be a Healer for children. I could tell you the three foods that he would never touch with a ten-foot pole, his favorite spot in his house to take a nap, how he'd gotten the small dark scar above his knees. Didn't I know enough to know that this couldn't work?

"Luna? Luna?" I snapped out of it and looked at Gin, who was know looking faintly sympathetic. She slipped a hand into my own and squeezed gently. "I don't think it's as bad as all that. It is pretty terrible timing though - reallly, what are the odds of the two people being together when their letters are opened? Even if they're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

_The Ministry should have thought of that first._

Well, I wasn't going to stress about it overmuch. In fact, I was already filing it away for further mull-ification at a later date. Right now, I wanted to boot Ginny out of the house so I could go upstairs and change into my grubby gardening clothes, then leave the house and potter about my flowers for a few hours. Perhaps I may have dazed out for a few moments because when I checked back in, Ginny was no longer talking. Instead she was staring at me.

"Do _not_ tell me that you're thinking of doing what I _think_ you're thinking of doing." ...really, she knew me far too well. I was beginning to think I was open book! She never waited for a response but went on exasperatedly. "Luna, who goes gardening at night?"

I smiled at her with no intention of denying it.

"Who doesn't? If you were patient enough to try gardening, I'd advise you to garden at night too."

I started to laugh as she stood to her feet disgruntled.

"You're going to be useless for talking until you get it out of your system." She rolled her eyes while pulling me to my own feet then out of the kitchen and down the hall.

"This time I didn't even have to ask you to leave," I murmured. I was still laughing a bit.

"You couldn't get me stay now, that's for sure." Right - once she'd figured me for a gardening girl, she'd made it a point to tell me never to invite her back there to work - just to look at the scenery. She reached for the Floo powder all on her own. Mid-toss she turned to me with that same faintly sympathetic look on her face. "Do think about what I said. One of you is going to have to try something. Wouldn't you rather it be you?"

I hugged her. "Thanks for coming, Gin."

She hugged me back. "Don't catch a cold - you always forget your cloak."

Sometimes, I think Gin didn't realize _just_ how much she was like her mother. I smiled.

"I won't and I will."

With a wave, Gin was into the fire. I waited until the fizzle and pop of the bursting timbers faded. Then I headed up to my room to change.

My garden was one of the best things about my home - it had been my mother's when she was alive but I'd played in it all the time when I was younger. It was off the left side of the house - a strip of grass between two gates, then the large space of exotic flowers from far-away places, and homey small species found here in England. It was really more of a wildlife garden than anything else - not orderly, sort of growing over and around and tumbling - Daddy called it a mini-jungle most days. I loved the garden because when Mother and Daddy hadn't been experimenting, they'd been in it with me. Though I couldn't cook to save a life, nor possessed an artistic bone in my body, I seemed to have a way with flowers. I suppose you could say I took to gardening like a fish takes to water...sort of, naturally, I suppose. Mother had been so exciting when she'd Once she was gone, the garden had naturally become mine. There was a time when I hadn't been able to enter, immediately after her death, because it felt too much like she should be there. But now it was mine - mine because it had been hers and mine because it was now my own special place.

I stepped out of the side door into the dim moonlight, barefoot so my toes could dig into the grass. Some people thought grass was scratchy but if the soil underneath it was good, grass was soft. Besides, I almost never wore shoes to garden. They were just cumbersome and bothersome - always in the way. I'd end up taking them off anyway. I walked the little ways to the second gate, the inner gate, which swung open into the space. Everything was as I'd left it - the blues and purples of my spring gentians, bluebelles and lady's slippers close to the gate were only just beginning to bloom, while my yellows and cheddar pinks far in the back were becoming shoots. My white lilies and black dearlets were acting like weeds - populating all across the garden, _not_ contained to the right as they were supposed to be. _Ah well, at least they're growing._ Just last week I'd purchased seeds for the and already I could see the disturbances in the soil, the little hills that denoted life underneath. They were growing so nicely, the magic in the soil kept them perpetually flowering, but also spurred their growth like mad. By this time in a month, almost all the flowers in the garden would be much taller than me, and I'd have a rough time keeping the weeds out.

With my gloves underneath the dingy brown cloak- I'd have to remember to tell her that I had remembered to get something to keep me warm! - and a scarf on my head to keep my hair off my face, I walked a little ways in then dropped down to my knees next to my large violet-purple pasque flowers. These flowers gave off heat like they were their own personal lamps for the rest of the garden. I had never bothered to check if that was normal, and didn't really think it was...But if I remembered I would ask Hermione. I put on my gloves and spread the skirt of my old dress so that it would be a cushion to sit on the dirt. The flowers were looking alright for the most part but two or three of them were worse off. I lifted a single purple petal that was bent, a stalk was broken with the green-tinged creamy 'blood' still oozing.

 _Could something have gotten in?_ I had made sure to leave paths all throughout the wildlife so I wouldn't step on them. This wasn't me. So maybe an animal? I touched the dirt, shifted the stalks and saw something white. My flowers were purple. _Something white?_

I leaned forward to see what it could be then abruptly leaned back. _Well then..._

A kitten.

An awfully small almost perfectly white kitten. Small didn't really do the thing justice - it looked like it could fit in the palm of my hand comfortably. Sleeping, I think, with such even rapid breaths, sleeping and huddled to the stalk of the pasque stems. How had it gotten in? The wards were never lifted on this side of the house

"I wonder where your mum is," I whispered as I looked down at it. Boy? Girl? Spell. I took out my wand and tapped the air above the sleeping creature...blue glow. Boy. "And you're so little to have gotten away from her."

Tonight was full of surprises, I suppose. It wasn't warm outside but the kitten had managed to find the one plant that would definitely keep him warm - I stared at the sleeping little thing for a little while before I reached out to disturb his sleep. Oh but his eyes were beautiful. Blinked and opened a mouth full of tiny sharp-looking teeth to yawn. He was...

Cute. Really, really cute.

Amber eyes met mine. And he yawned again. Then mewled. I stroked him between the ears and he made weird rumbling noise that could hardly be called purring. This creature got cuter and cuter by the moment.

"Looks like you're hungry." I took off the gloves and lay them down, then reached out and picked him up. "Oh, you're very warm!"

How could something so little be giving off so much heat? I marveled at him then cradled him inside the cloak. So much for gardening. Back into the kitchen to hunt for some milk and fish. I didn't think the spices would do anything - _if anything, kitty should get acclimated to Dean's cooking..._ \- so I pulled some of it out the pan, shrunk an old blue plate into a tea saucer and and another into a flatter bowl for the milk.

"Where _is_ your mother?" I said aloud as I left the kitten to eat. Might as well clean up the rest of it before I forgot. Daddy would scold me if he came home to everything still on the table. I started clearing the dishes away, packaging most of it but leaving a plate on the stove for whenever Daddy got home. He would know to look there, if I left a note on the front door about it. Flicked a wand to get soap and water mixing in . Even after all these years I wasn't very good at domestic spells - either too much soap or too much water and I'd make a mess easily. I'd almost destroyed the kitchen by creating a mini flash-flood when I was thirteen. Safe to say my father was more than wary of letting me do too much in here since. I sighed again. Dean was rather neat and he usually started the dishes before he left since he knew I tended to forget but he'd been in such a rush tonight...

 _It really would have been better had I opened it alone._ I sighed. _No use crying over spilt milk, as they say._

Uh-oh. The water in the sink was reaching dangerously high levels. I shut off the tap and decided to give up on magic. I was better at washing at hand. And it would give me something to do while the kitten ate. As I washed, I thought about what Gin had said about trying for a date. _A date?_ If we were so unwilling to talk about the situation over casual dinner that had become a habit between best mates, how would we handle the added expectation that comes with...dressing up...and going out...expressly to put one's best foot forward for a romantic interest? We didn't qualify as romantic interests! I sure did not see Dean as anything in that manner. He was lovely in the most dependable and comfortable way I could imagine - always there to cheer me up, always seeing me through, keeping all promises, helping me out whenever I needed it, talking about anything. He was one of my very favorite people, one of my very closest friends. But I had never imagined or looked at Dean in that way. And I couldn't start now just because the Ministry had decided to link our lives together irrevocably.

A date? It was a terrible idea in my mind. Making an already awkward situation infinitely worse.

No, I really didn't think a date a good idea. But Gin was usually right about things like this. I admit...I'm clueless. You know my take on love. And this wasn't even love we were talking about here. I mean, I guess I saw the harm in it. I definitely saw harm in it. And I suppose...if I really thought about it...I was uncomfortable with change. I didn't like this at all. I liked the linking of our lives together this way even less. Merlin, this could get ugly. But I couldn't do more harm than the Ministry had done already, could I?

There was soft mewling somewhere roundabouts my feet...of course, the kitten was done, and was now sitting on my left foot. Really, he was just so...cute. Stroking him behind the ears, I thought again about it. Turned the idea over in my mind as I crouched there on the floor. Could I reach out and ask him out first? Even here in the safety of being alone, I was looking at the idea in discomfort. I couldn't fathom it. How would I even craft the letter? What would make it less awkward? _Was_ there anyway I could make it less awkward? Or was Ginny wrong and this entire thing was doomed to fail from the start?

I wouldn't do any more harm than the Ministry had done...would I?

/-|-\

"So."

'So'...the word rather summed up the entire situation that I found myself in at the moment. A date with my best mate who I considered a sister. At a restaurant that Ron had suggested.

"So," I said again.

The silence was palpable. Well, Luna did look rather nice for this thing. Her bangs were swept to one side, the rest pulled up in to a tight neat bun. Her black cloak was on the shoulder of the chair, revealing a very form-fitting black tunic-looking top and rather tight jeans: something that said Ginerva Weasley _all_ over it. Scratch that - this entire setup had Gin's taint everywhere. That chit was always meddling in others affairs - she'd taken after Hermione and Molly in that respect. And her meddling had somehow led to this (yes, I doubted Luna's ability to come up with something like this on her own free will)...this was one of the very few times that I could say Luna Lovegood looked entirely uncomfortable. Is it wrong that I took a tiny bit of pleasure in that? After all, she was the one who had called us out here. Into disaster.

_Stop being so negative, mate._

I stomped on that strange burst of vindictive pleasure and retreated back into the good ol' boy role. The quicker we made it through dinner, the quicker we could get out of here.

"So, yes. Here we are." I winced even as I said it. "Ron suggested this place."

"Did he?" she answered politely, blue eyes taking it all in. "It's very nice."

I paused and searched for something else to say.

"I'm glad you like it."

And then another two minutes of silence. This was so awkward, it was killing me.

"Do you know how he happened to find it?"

I shook my head. "Not the faintest."

We looked at each other and turned away at the same time.

"You look very nice." Which she did. "Fits in with the place." Which it didn't.

Granted, she did look nice. but I knew her personality so well that I knew she preferred small cafes, artsy venues, outdoorsy places. This lovely restaurant with its polished black floors, sharp silver-edged tables...this wasn't Luna's domain at all. We'd been here fifteen minutes but it had been stilted so far. Nothing like the usual us. Nothing at all. But maybe this was a start.

"Thank you," she said with a smile that was more like her relaxed one. I smiled back. "Did you end up getting a copy of _The Quibbler_ yesterday?"

Funny. We hadn't seen each other in the two days since the letter arrived but it felt longer. I suppose getting the habit of seeing someone every single day did that to you. Or to me, at least.

"Yes," I paused and laughed. "And I ended up reading about that witch's run-in with Nargles in East Anglia. It was hilarious and I'm glad you recommended it!"

"Wasn't it though?" A smile creased her face and her blue eyes lit up. "The letter came in a dark green envelope that whistled the whole time it was reading it out loud."

"Yeah?" I arched an eyebrow, still grinning. I could just imagine the chaos. "Bet your assistant loved that."

"Bet the entire staff loved it," she said wryly. "Madness from morn till night, I say."

"Yeah? But you love it."

She shrugged her shoulders demurely.

"Aw, trying to be modest about it."

She started to laugh a little bit, her hand rising unconsciously to cover it up. I'd been trying to get her to quit that for months but to no avail. I would never figure out why some girls did that...but it was rather cute when she did it, anyway.

"This was a terrible idea." She said it so suddenly that I just stared. For the first time all evening, Luna was smiling. "Sorry for bringing us both out here. Do you want to leave?"

I grinned.

"Let's. Your place or mine?"

"Yours. Daddy's experimenting again." Which meant it would sound like the twins and Lee's apartment and we wouldn't be able to hear ourselves think over the banging and explosions. Mr. Lovegood was marginally better than Luna at spells but still...I worried sometimes. I stood up and walked to the other side of the table to pull out her chair. The cloak I placed over her shoulders.

"You sure?" I asked as I laced it up.

"Yes," she said, shaking her bangs back. "It's nothing dangerous at all. I think it might actually have to do with cooking."

I think I sighed in relief. That wasn't anything dangerous at all.

"Good then. Harry's with Gin and Ron's over at the Burrow, I think." Had Ron remembered to clean up the kitchen? I sure hoped so. With no dinner, I was going to cook again anyway. Unless... "Shall I cook or do we get take-out?"

Luna's eyes lit up. As expected. She'd fallen in love with spicy pad-thai a few weeks back.

"Oh, do get take-out!"

I grinned.

"Walk there or have them deliver?"

"Delivery."

"Surprise, surprise," I teased. "Usually, you're all about the walking."

She looked the teensiest bit sheepish, then looked down at her feet.

"Ginny's heels are not as comfortable as she'd made them out to be."

They did look rather...much. Spiked and feathers and all. _Oh, Gin._ I swear that particular Weasley was a bad influence on the rest of mankind.

"Should I carry you out then?"

I paused as it looked as if Luna was actually considering the idea. You'd think in all the time I'd known her there would be nothing she could do that would surprise me, but I kept forgetting that she was quite unpredictable. She could very well say yes in a moment. I started laughing again.

"No, no," she sighed. "We'll be apparating from the lobby in a bit anyway."

I rolled my eyes when she looked back down at her feet, then took her arm and lead her all the way down the stairs (which she managed very gracefully) and then across the carpeted lobby (which she didn't manage quite as gracefully) to the assigned area for entering and leaving magically.

"Ready?"

She nodded. I let myself go, thinking of my apartment's front door, and found myself there. I hadn't quite got the hang of doing it _without_ feeling like the pit of my stomach was leaving through my nostrils. Luna on the other hand, who arrived a beat later, looked calm and unruffled. As usual. I was going to have to ask her to teach it to me sometime. I lifted the wards, opened the door, and stepped back to let her in first. Ah, my apartment. Home. Thanks to all of us pitching in, and Harry's status as Savior of the Wizarding World, the apartment was fairly massive. Not as big as the twin's but Harry had really had to put his foot down when the Minister had offered him an entire building to call his own. This was the smallest he could haggle it down to but, truth be told, our stag quad was still spacious. We'd all put our stamp on the place so it ended up looking more homey than its modern interior design, with comfy leather chairs and a huge television and gaming room full of old-school electronics that worked as long as we kept magic down to the barest minimum in the place. There was even a room that was full of posters of all our favorite sporting teams (one wall I'd claimed for the West Ham football team) and another for collectible Quidditch equipment. We each had our own suite but we tended to hang out in the living room altogether most of the time. Neville's was farthest from the entrance on the left, mine was on the right, Harry's to the immediate left after the living area and Ron's to the right.

"Neville sent his things ahead?"

"Yep." I closed and locked the door behind me, then touched the door and sent the ward dropping back down again. "Just move it all out of the way."

I turned, she was already gone. I grumbled to myself before slipping out of my shoes and padding down the short hallway in socks. By the time I'd gotten to the living room, Luna was standing in front of the television with remote in hand, and a fire blazed in the . I eyed the fire, checking if she'd made it too large again, but it seemed alright. In any case, she hadn't noticed me yet - too busy being distracted by the moving pictures of the telly in front of her. She and Ginny were becoming easily obsessed by the tube.

"Take off those heels," I said, leaning against the counter. "Though you do wear them well."

She turned her gaze away from the telly with a slight grin on her face.

"That's not what you were saying when we were crossing the lobby."

"If I hadn't been there to catch you..."I let the sentence dangle and Luna let out a lady-like puff of air.

"I would have been fine."

"Wrong." I pushed myself off the wall and motioned her towards the couch. "Damn, but how do you get these things off anyway? They look so complicated."

She blinked and sat down.

"Do they? Pretty simple to me."

"Seeing as I don't wear heels regularly, excuse my inability to figure these ones out."

"Oh," she shot back, eyes twinkling, "but you _do_ wear them?"

I started laughing again. "I left myself wide open for that one, didn't I?"

She smiled back. "Must I answer that question?"

I shook my head and dropped to the floor at her feet.

"Back to these things though." I propped both of her feet in my lap. Although they looked extra, something about those black heels were very...attractive. Maybe it was the feathers. She sat quietly, watching me examine them I think, until I turned her feet over. Christ but there were no less than five straps up and down the thing, and those were just the ones I could see. I rolled up her jeans to see three more.

"Seriously?" I asked on the edge of a sigh. "Why ever do girls wear this kind of thing."

I went back to them, slowly, methodically, unbuckling and unstrapping until I was done with one foot and almost done with the other. The last one seemed to buckle twice, as impossible as it sounded. How the hell had they made only _one_ shoe doubly buckled? Was that even the correct term? When I looked up, Luna was laughing at me.

"Oi," I reprimanded, "I'm doing you a favor here. No laughing."

She waved a hand in front of her face and motioned me to go on silently. I rolled my eyes and pulled hard on the shoe to get back at her. I was rewarded with a gasp before she settled back down to let me do what I wanted.

"So dainty!" I exclaimed over her small ankles when the shoes finally came off.

"Did you think them large before?"

"Never had thought about them before actually," I replied truthfully. I resisted the urge to trace the sides of her feet (What the hell was that about?) and dropped them gently to the floor. "Shall I burn these for you?"

I picked up the shoes and made for the fire. I actually got an extremely shortened girly squeal out of her! Miracle! When I turned, she was half out of the couch and reaching for me with both hands. It was so comical that I couldn't help but snicker a little bit - her cheeks had points of color and wavy strands were escaping that neat little bun.

"I take that to be a no?"

For what could be the first time in her short life, Luna put her hands on her hips and frowned at me. On the inside, I was laughing hard.

"If you care for your life and mine, you'll put those back down safely."

True, my life would be forfeit at the hands of one irate redhead if anything happened to these shoes. I sighed, making a big show of it to get a rise out of Luna, and handed them back to her. She looked more than relieved as she took them and padded to the entrance to presumably store them away from me. I padded over to the island kitchen counter to get the phone, dialed the number for the

"Oi, you want your usual?" I yelled as it rang. "I'm ordering now."

"Yeah," her voice called back.

"Hello, yes, I'm calling to place an order for delivery...spicy pad-thai with glazed chicken, three platters of fried rice, four orders of vegetable noodle soup, and a side of crab wantons, two orders of yellow curry pork with potatoes...yes...yes...special? What sort of special?" Did I want an extra side of fried chicken? _Hell yes!_ "That sounds good - go ahead and add that to it...yes, yes, nothing else. How much will it be?...Hm, okay. Thank you."

"Didn't you have lunch?"

Had I? I thought about it.

"Yeah, but I didn't have afternoon tea, though."

She smiled. "Don't pretend there's a reason you eat so much. You just do."

I tilted my head and smirked. "True, true."

She shook her head a little bit and came over to sit next to me on the couch. I shifted automatically and she curled like a cat around her favorite pillow and for a little while we just watched the soccer game that was on. When the food came, we ate like there was no tomorrow. Alright, alright, correction - _I_ ate like there was no tomorrow. Luna barely finished her order which I definitely was not complaining about since she let me have most of it, but boxed the rest to take home.

"I didn't get to tell you about the new addition to the Lovegood household, did I?"

I shook my head.

"I found a kitten in the garden yesterday - I went out looking for his mother but no cats anywhere." She yawned and snuggled even deeper into the couch. "So I suppose he's free to stay at our house."

"Named him yet?"

"No, not sure what to name him." She smiled, one of those rare really large smiles that meant she was very happy. "He's very...endearing though. So little and his fur is perfectly white and he sleeps all the time."

"I can't wait to meet him. He must be really cute if you're willing to admit it aloud," I teased. She laughed and yawned again before we settled back into watching the telly. But...

"We really do need to talk about this arrangement, you know."

"I know that." I sighed a little bit then looked down at her seriously. "What do you think about it?"

She looked back at me, surprising me with a small smile.

"Well, I'd never imagined they would pick one of my best mates."

She had that right.

"And I think they could be wrong - we're so very close but nothing like that."

Again, the girl was on the ball.

"I agree. You _are_ one of the most important people in my life but...I love you in an entirely platonic, I've-saved-you-you've-saved-me, I'd-tell-you-my-worst-secrets kind of way." I paused. "Then again, I wouldn't tell you all my worst secrets."

She smiled again.

"You thinking we should just leave it alone and continue on as before?" I asked carefully.

She nodded.

"Truthfully, I'd have to say I'm glad at least that it is one of my best mates." The blonde looked extremely thoughtful. No room for too many extra people in my life, I think."

"Hmm, I don't know about that," I asserted. "You seem to be making enough time for everything you _want_ to make time for, this summer."

"Like what?"

I rattled off the list of people and things she spent her time involved with.

"Which is everything I've already had in my life." She shrugged and hugged the pillow in her lap. "Nothing new there."

"Then what have I been hearing about you running into Hannah Abbott?"

She blinked. "Just happened to bump into her downtown, outside of the Ministry. Pure accident."

Hannah Abbott had been even more lost than I at the end of the War - with Alfie dead and her parents long gone, she'd left the rest of us behind and never looked back. The robot that she'd become...I'd heard from Hermione that she was working in some bureacratic department in the Ministry, that she kept to herself, that she had contacted anyone for over four months. God only knew how she was faring.

"Is she...alright?"

Luna was quiet.

"I think...had I met her the day before her letter arrived, she would have been." We looked at each other. She couldn't have been paired up with -

"A former Death Eater?"

She nodded, looking reluctant and sad at the same time. _Oh no, oh no no no..._ When news of the hit on Alfire had come, Hannah had woken everyone up in the middle of the night with magic that her grief had unlocked. Two mini-cyclones in her room, books ripped, paint fairly peeling off the walls of Sirius Black's place, her roomate trying to fight through the wind to get to her side. In the middle of all that magic, she'd transported herself to the darkest place in the house...the dungeons. After four hours of searching for her, I think Hermione and Luna's group had found her first. Dirty, huddled, lifeless. She looked the way I felt two months later when Seamus and Lavender had been...attacked...out in the countryside...When she'd pulled herself together, she'd gone looking for who'd ordered the hit. She didn't know it...but Luna and I had accidentally found out who it was. We hadn't been snooping in the least - she'd come down with a fever and Luna had been taking care of her when I'd entered to check on them both. Sleep talking, feverish speech...whatever it was, we both knew who had ordered the hit.

And who Hannah had gone after in the Last Battle for vengeance.

But fate wouldn't be so cruel, would it? She couldn't possibly have become tied to-

"Nott?"

Luna nodded again.

"Fuck," I whispered. "I mean...wow...just...damn. That has got to be a fucking mistake. I mean, it _has_ to be a mistake. Surely, this spell for happily-ever-after cannot tie you to the son of your mortal enemy!"

Luna looked away sadly.

"Christ, I mean-" I stopped. "How...how was she?"

"Not very well."

 _Not very well._ Right. Hannah was taking things in stride. Or she was in severe shock.

Shit, I'd have blown up the Ministry by now.

"What a fiasco." The Ministry was forcing the most unlikely and destructive relationships upon us all. How many others were being totally done in by this stupid affair? "What a friggin' fiasco."

Luna leaned against me, her eyes closing slowly.

"I think she's going to fight it. And I think she's going to need friends," she said softly. "More now, than ever."

I heartily agreed. People who are that...broken...usually do. Either way, that was a match made in hell. Hannah Abbott may have easily been described as a 'nice' girl before her brother's death, but she couldn't be called that by any stretch of the imagination now. And the worst part of it was that Theodore Nott had done his best to avoid battle - hadn't seen him almost the entirety of the War in any recon missions. It didn't make him innocent but he had _no_ idea what the hell was coming his way. I bet he didn't even know that his father had ordered the hit. This was a fucking _mess_.

"Are you going to see her again this week?"

I didn't hear anything.

"Yes? No? Maybe?"

Still nothing. When I looked down, Luna had fallen asleep. Her cheek was resting on the pillow, the bun completely undone and her long wavy hair spilling across her face and the pillow. It always amazed me how quickly she could drop off...I swear, give her a surface and five minutes of quiet and the little lady would be gone. She was a rather deep sleeper but she always came awake fully conscious of her surroundings. I could lift her and she wouldn't wake up at all. _Better do so then._ I shifted her sideways so that her feet were in my lap, and had another pillow float in under her head, then dropped a thick knitted blue blanket over her for warmth since the air was on.

"Tired so quickly?" I mused aloud. She continued to breathe deeply, evenly. I suppose she would be - interning at the office and still making time to talk to everyone and meet up with new people? Even though I didn't still fully understand her fascination with the seriously 'weird' of magic, I respected her dedication to keeping the magazine alive and thriving. Her work ethic was admirable - she kept stranger hours than Mr. Lovegood sometimes. She was really loyal, a good secret-keeper, one of the best-advice givers...and even though she thought herself rather staunch and 'ungirly', I thought Luna was 'nice'. She was a very nice girl. And I liked her for it. Only she would be so comfortable to be with that Hannah Abbott, so closed off, would tell her about who she was marrying. I swear, Luna was busier than she meant to be, most of the time. Made sense that she was tired. I smiled. Yep, I suppose she would be.

For a while, I forgot about the game and the telly and just watched her dreaming...I got so busy watching her breathe that I never even noticed when I dropped off to sleep too.


	3. Fun, Pain, and Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna discovers a new difficulty with breathing and Dean keeps his eye out (but his hands to himself).

_It's hard for me to believe that things can be good again after all the 'bad'. But good things happen, life and love and really **good** things keep bumbling along behind me to remind me that it can be. ~ Harry at breakfast to all of his roommates, at the start of summer._

_\---_

"It's good to have you back!" I hugged Neville hard, momentarily surprised by just how glad I was to see him. I wasn't one to show so much emotion but I had missed him so very very much.

I was happy to be here in the apartment in his honor since we were holding a dinner held to celebrate, and were all really glad that he'd made it back safely from his business trip out of country. We'd been waiting in the foyer for over a half an hour, decorating with massive blown up balloons that hummed songs in the corridors and in all over the living room and decorating the entrance to his set of rooms in the place. Music was blaring from the television, Ginny and Harry had just finished decorating quite a magnificent vanilla bean cake on the island counter while Hermione had cooked something impromptu (bubble and squeak!) and sent Ron to get coconut treacle tart and hot cross buns at a deli place down the street. I'd just been thinking it very possible that he'd been abducted by phantom trough faeries, which I hear are plentiful in English summers, but no. It was good thing she sent him early because he'd made it back _just_ before Neville apparated in front of the open doorway.

"We've missed you, mate," said Ron cheerfully, albeit out of breath. Perhaps those phantom trough faeries had given chase anyway.

Four large white boxes were stacked up neatly in his arms. At the sight of them, I shook my head. There were four more stacked outside the door...trust Ron to get as much as possible. Then again, the boys could clean house if they were left to a kitchen and its provisions. He reached out a hand to punch Neville in the shoulder in a very happy way, surprisingly keeping the boxes stacked correctly. I spoke too soon - he made a face when the top one wobbled ominously, his face immediately focusing on the food.

"Might drop this if I'm not careful. Just let me leave this on the counter, yeah?"

Everyone laughed, before he jogged up the corridor, the rest of the boxes lifting and following him one by one. As he moved up the hallway, Hermione and Gin were running down it. Before they got there, Dean and Harry clapped him on the back and stepped back. Hah, and just in the nick of time since Ginny pulled him into a hard hug too while Hermione attacked from the other side. I could barely see Neville through all that curly hair. It was too much for Neville, clearly, who dropped the one suitcase he was holding onto and staggered backward under their combined weight. I couldn't help it - I started to laugh, really laugh, lean-against-the-wall-and-shake-really-hard kind of laughter.

Dean caught my eyes and grinned at me over their heads.

"It's good to be back, everyone."

Neville, who smiled often but laughed so very rarely, was laughing openly now. It was so _good_ to see him this way...I suppose he'd always been rather serious but the three days he'd spent in the hands of the Death Eaters, tortured just like his parents, had ironed out anything that had been soft in him before. He'd talked to Dean about whatever had happened but not me. I had no idea what it had taken for him to get through that with his mind intact. Because... _Three days is seventy-two hours, and seventy-two hours is an awfully long time._

So to see him smile like this? Made my heart so full.

"Sorry about that," Mione said with a rueful smile when she pulled back. "Too happy to see you, I suppose!"

"Same here," chimed in Ginny. She pulled back with an affectionate grin. "Merlin, but it is so _very_ good to see you! We've missed you so much! You've missed so much, too!"

Another general burst of laughter before-

"Oi!"

Everyone turned to see Ron motioning us forward.

"Can we move this thing in here? Close the door - music is so loud, I'm sure they can hear us downstairs without the added help. Oh and drop the wards, Dean?"

More laughter, quick chatter as everyone but Dean and I moved away from the door and all the way down the corridor and into the apartment. I leaned against the wall, still smiling, as I watched him close his eyes and whisper the spell for the wards. No one would be able to get in, and that would be the maximum amount of magic they could perform and still have the electronics (was that the right word?) work properly. Sometimes, it still interfered but as long as we had the music for Neville, it would be fine. I watched them leave, watched Hermione and Harry chatter away to Neville while Ginny tried to distract them from the other side.

"You that happy?"

I startled out of my thoughts. Dean was leaning against the wall opposite me, arms folded across his chest and a grin on his face. I blinked. "Eh?"

"Your smile is just so...full."

I blinked again. He always took the words right out of my head.

"Is it?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Yes, it is. I've rarely seen you smile."

_I don't?_

"Let me rephrase that. You do smile, just not so..." He stopped, searching for the right word. "Not sure how to describe it. It's the difference between an every-day smile and an so-happy-I-couldn't-help-but-smile smile."

I thought about it.

"I am..." I searched for words too. "I am, I know. We've all been through much and when I see you all, I can't help it. I just feel that it's good to so see him-"

"That way, right? So happy."

I nodded and looked at him. He pushed off the wall and for a very disconcerting moment I was aware of just how tall Dean was, how much of him was solid muscle, how all that sheer height made him tower over me at all times. I had to fight not to take a startled step back and then shake off this really strange urge to take a good long look at him. I tensed briefly, figuring...myself...back out again.

_Strange._

"You ready to go back in?"

I startled again. Heavens, what was happening to me? It was just too odd.

"Yes," I said firmly, belatedly remembering his question. Thank heavens he hadn't noticed the lapse. Wouldn't do to stand there like a ninny or he definitely _would_ notice. "Yes, let's go."

"You alright?"

I just barely managed not to freeze, barely managed to look at him normally. _I suppose he did notice?_ I shook my hair out and smiled at him.

"Fine," I responded, as breezily as I could manage. "Just fine. Come along."

When he chuckled, I did something so rare that it took me a minute to figure out what the heat in my neck and cheek was. _Really?_ I blinked and walked a bit faster. At least the hallway was dim. I mean, only a night owl could see me...blushing. Hopefully all that pink on pale wouldn't be too noticeable? Perhaps? Who was I joshing - I sped up a whole lot, leaving Dean Thomas to continue to laugh at me from somewhere behind me.

"Is it _still_ top secret? You really can't tell us why you were so very suddenly sent on a business trip to Ireland?"

It was certainly the question most of us had been thinking about - but, of course, only Hermione would ask aloud. Which was pointless since there was a lot of shoveling of food into mouths on the other side of the table, Neville included. It took him a moment to finish swallowing before he cleared his throat to answer.

"Still can't but it's nothing bad at all." He smiled around the table. "Nothing bad at all. No worries, alright, you lot?"

Well, I suppose that was good. One shock at a time was enough. Dean and I had told him over the phone yesterday, about the two of us being betrothed. He'd been surprised but happy that at least the two of us knew each other. He had no idea who his would be but since there weren't any more girls in the group..."I'd be lucky as hell to know _of_ her!" he'd said. He was right. This was true. And after our conclusion - well, really, the decision that this betrothed thing wasn't going to change us in any way, that at least we were okay (if not happy) and we had each other, that we would continue to be best mates - we were looking in tip-top shape next to Hermione and Neville. He hadn't wanted to open the letter tonight but he was going to have to soon. And once he did, the rest of his life would play out in accordance. Three days to meet with her, more to figure out the enxxt step or the next move, the rest to find out if they were really as perfectly matched as the Ministry had claimed they were supposed to be.

I couldn't help the turn of my thoughts as I stared at him throughout the rest of dinner, as I stayed mostly out of the conversation. I wanted so bad for all of us to be happy...this group of people who had I'd become so close to in the last year. I hadn't had such good luck with friends before. I suppose I still found out it miraculous to have acquired them in such hard times. They brought out the best in me, I think. Understood me very well, would do anything for me, made it so that I felt that way in return. I smiled a little bit as Ron whispered something to Harry that had Gin punching him hard in the arm, Dean falling back to get out of her way, and Neville laughing (so rare, that) really hard. But this edict...

I had a sudden premonition, a foreboding feeling, an inexplicable vision of the rest of summer.

Of an incredibly unhappy Neville. It was as clear as a bell: his face closed and as impassive as stone, his eyes as dark as the night we'd found him after his capture by Death Eaters. In the vision, his gaze was heavy on my face. I was the lens of the camera he looked into and whatever he saw there did not move him. I sucked in a breath, dismayed, fighting back the vision. My head refused to clear of it. It unfurled and played out like a Muggle movie reel.

He looked me dead in the face, then turning away with an air of dismissal so final that it felt like a permanent goodbye. And a blow to my chest. Tears I hadn't known could surge to the forefront were surging now. Where was this coming from? I sucked in another breath and blinked rapidly, looking down and shielding my face with my hair. And what was the ring of truth to it, as if it were a real disclosure of the future? I had to get out of here for a little bit, gather myself into myself and back together. I got up silently, made my way to the bathroom early in the corridor off of Dean's wing.

_Please, dear heavens, please...He has earned every right to be happy._

I closed the door, locked it, leaned back and shook. Too much truth in it. I was Who was he destined to be with? What young woman was going to make Neville look like that? Had that even been a true vision? Heavens, it felt real. That kind of thing had only happened once before - a week before Second Year began. It had been something almost as bad - it had been about Daddy having a very close run-in with an experiment. Same as this time: the shaking, the near-tears, the complete conviction that the scene in my head been truth. And it had sent me to the Head of my House, asking for someone to get my father in the fireplace so I could make sure he was alright.

"Luna?

Dean, at the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah?"

"I felt...something. What's wrong?"

 _They weren't lying about that bond, were they._ Such strong magic to tie two lives down. How much could Dean feel of this? What exactly was he alerted to? Heavens but that vision...I had to breathe. I had to take a step back and look at it objectively. And after a few more seconds of silence, I found that I could. Alright. I accepted the vision as portentous, perhaps, but what terrible portents indeed. I stopped shaking, flipped on the light switch and ran water in the sink. Water, face, wash, fine. Fine. Wow, my thoughts were all over the place. I wasn't even making coherent connections anymore. I breathed deeply, breathed evenly for a few moments and collected myself. I was calm now. I was good now.

"Luna?" Dean's voice was now flat-out worried, insistent. "I'm coming in there right now. Luna, can you hear me? Damn it-"

I pulled the door open to see him looking the slightest bit frantic, very worried, both arms upraised as if to hit the frame of the massive door. He pulled me into a hard hug before pushing me back by the shoulders.

"Wh-what happened?"

Now that the relief was past, he looked ticked. _Uh-oh._ I didn't want to see him angry.

"I'm sorry," I apologized quickly. "I think I spaced out for a bit."

A beat of silence as I looked away from him and then-

"You're lying." I couldn't help that my eyebrows rose up in the face of his conviction. And he was slowly moving from ticked to...er- something more. "You're lying to me. You have never liked to admit that you 'space', as you so eloquently called it."

When had he gotten so good at reading me? If I could pinpoint the time, perhaps I could get a Time-Turner and go back and change it. That thought wasn't helping me in the present though. Dean's face was its own little storm cloud as his hands let go of my shoulders to cradle my neck. _Alright, whoa. **Not** what I'm used to...at...all._ We got close all the time, really, but not in situations like this. He didn't even look like it was throwing off - in fact, Dean Thomas looked like we engaged in this kind of thing all the time. I felt the beginnings of that unfamiliar heat that signaled a blush. And fought to remain calm. Maybe I could explain my way out of this?

"Not only that but whatever is tying us is kicking in. I could feel the mood slide from positive to negative throughout dinner, though it took me a hell of a while to figure out that it wasn't me. It was you." His thumbs stroked and I got distracted, kicking that blush back down into the depths. "So cut it out and _spit_ it out, Luna."

"I'm not really sure how to describe it." I sighed then realized it made the pad of his fingers go into further action. Not good for me. I looked down but held myself very _very_ still. My voice was not strangled when it emerged from my mouth, but it wasn't strong either. "Felt like a...vision. Of Neville unhappy. That's all it was."

"Look at me." _Do I really have to?_

"Luna."

His voice was a warning in and of itself. Which meant that the answer to the aforementioned question was a resounding yes. I was angry that my first instinct had been to evade the question although I hadn't wanted to outright lie to him. I was angry that I couldn't control this tendency to blush around him today, that I couldn't push back the thought that he would judge me if I told him. I was angry that the vision had been something that wouldn't (couldn't, by any stretch of _anyone's_ imagination) end well for Neville and I knew in my bones that there was truth in it. I was angry that Dean was angry and I hated it when any of my best mates were angry with me. And I was angry because I hadn't wanted him to think me crazy. I had the uncontrollable and uncharacteristic urge to...curse. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't look at him.

_Calm. Unruffled. Serene._

That's what I needed to be. I wouldn't look at him until I had mastered myself. I breathed deeply (hadn't I been doing enough of that in the last five minutes? And hadn't it worked? Why should I let Dean come along and shatter that for me?) and almost lost it when the pads of his fingers began moving again over his neck. But I kicked that feeling down and kept my eyes on his chest and breathed. And then again. And again. _Just calm._

 _Calm. That is what I am. Good._ Finally, I could meet his gaze head on.

"Sometimes I can't read you at all," he said seriously. "Sometimes, I have no idea what is going on in that head of yours."

I couldn't help when pain blossomed in my head. I closed my eyes against it. See, this was _exactly_ the reason why I hadn't wanted to tell him a thing. I wasn't even angry, just hurt. Why had I ever opened my mouth to tell the truth? Couldn't I have just brushed him off or lied convincingly? Now, he thought that I was-

"That's not crazy."

I looked up at him sharply. His gaze was serious on my face, that good-ol'-chap charm gone since he was watching me so closely. He cradled my face, bending so low that we were now face to face. It felt like he was holding me steady, anchoring me so that I would look at him.

"That's not crazy," he repeated firmly. "I worry. I'm very worried too. Ever since you told me about Nott and Hannah Abbott, I've been worried as hell over Neville. I can't imagine how Hannah is dealing with it, and she's nowhere as close to me as Nev is. I've been anxious about the fact that he could become tied to an ex-Eater this last week, and it's a legitimate worry, Luna. So don't disregard it. Or me. Didn't you tell me about the vision before Second Year?"

I nodded mutely.

"See? You trusted me to believe that so trust me to believe you about this. I don't ever want you to think that you can't tell me something important to you, like that. Ever. Alright?"

He smiled and the smile turned into something that made my chest tight and achy and very uncomfortable. _What is **wrong** with me?_ Perhaps it was the sheer emotional weight of the last three hours - such a swing from very happy to terrified and anxious. That's surely what it was. I thanked the heavens for small favors when his hands dropped from my face, to squeeze my shoulders, to leave my body entirely. At least, he hadn't noticed this time.

"Alright."

"Good. Now...do you need another moment?" His grin turned mischievous. "I promise I won't be kicking down the door this time."

I began to laugh and Dean took my wrist and began tugging me down the hall. Down the hall, out of the corridor, back among friends. And by the time we settled down on the couch, after he winked at me and rubbed my neck, I realized that I wasn't worried anymore. That I was laughing, that the vision seemed a distant dark thing that I didn't need to be anxious about. I looked up at him, this very good friend, the very best of friends and wondered...

Seemed like he was always doing this to me.

/-|-\

"Mr. Lovegood, are you sure you don't need help?" I asked doubtfully.

He was carrying an armload of what looked to be heavy boxes filled to the brim with assorted pottery, glass jars filled with brightly-colored constantly shifting liquids, and clean parchment. It looked dangerous with the top two wobbling, his body hidden by those boxes, and the four boxes that were trailing low to the ground right behind him looked even more so. Those were tripping hazards just waiting to happen. If he wasn't careful, he was going to- _Crap!_ I leaped out of the chair as one box almost took Mr. Lovegood down. He recovered, just barely. My heart sank back into its normal place mid-chest.

"I'm alright," came the muffled voice from behind the boxes. A moment later he poked his head out, dark hair ruffled. "I've got these here but you can take those ones back in the office."

I was afraid to leave him alone after that near mishap. Understand this - Mr. Lovegood is actually a very competent wizard. I'd seen him in action only once at the beginning of the War, back when I hadn't known Luna very well and before she'd begged him to leave the country and be safe. In fact, he was always in the middle of creating new spells when I was over here or manipulating old ones to new processes or ends. It was just that he was so careless in the sense of what happened to him while he was experimenting. He would be so focused on finishing his experiment that he could be burned and endure - hell, if he even noticed it! - until he was completely finished. Sometimes he would forget meals, which drove Luna to rare displays of irritation, or he would sleep in that lab. I was going to go grey early worrying about this man.

He smiled as if he knew what I was thinking, motioned his head towards the office, and turned to make his slow way down the corridor leading to the experimentation room. I (understandably!) hesitated before heading off to the room. I had to stop in the doorway to check if I was in the same place.

"Wow," I muttered to myself. The normally chaotic room was orderly. A miracle? "Never thought I'd see the day."

A flick of a wand to get four boxes up before I lifted the last three which were pretty light to begin with, and backtracked down the hallway, across the living room and into the lab. Where he was at a desk in the corner, unpacking some of the stuff in the boxes. Which was good. Very good. He grinned when I entered the room, then motioned me over to look at something in the textbook. Before long we were arguing over whether or not a spell could be created to make a wand unbreakable.

"But wood always breaks," I argued at some point. "The breaking comes from within, doesn't it? Too much magic that it can't hold - isn't that why it breaks?"

"True, but if the spell was aimed at the capacity of the wood to maintain a spell...because the capacity is the problem."

I paused at what he said, thinking about it.

"How do you even propose to do that though? No such spell exists."

"Exactly." His eyes twinkled - twinkled! "This is a new spell altogether."

I arched my eyebrows. Of course. Why hadn't I thought that he would build it himself. Sounded liked a project.

"Sounds interesting though I have no idea how that would work. I wonder-"

"Aren't you two busy little bees?"

We both looked up to see Luna in the doorway, smiling a little bit and looking very pretty in a light blue sun-dress that had a smidgen of dirt on the hip. She was barefoot and I could just bet the bottoms of her feet were covered in soil from her garden too. The sun hat was pushed back a little bit, the loose strap hanging around her ears and down the front of her dress.

"The new spell."

"Wands?"

Mr. Lovegood and I nodded at the same time.

"May I see it later today?" She pushed the hat farther back on her head. "I'm borrowing Dean to look at the garden. And to keep Kit out of my way."

Kit, the adorable kitten whom I'd named since Luna had let me. He was still pretty small, even after a week of constant feeding, but he was energetic and playful and I felt like I was watching toddlers whenever I was with that little thing. All I did was jog or run or laugh or duck paws. Or, in this case, keep him out of Luna's way when she was pottering about her expansive garden. Since I'd given him a name, she was going to name the puppy I got next week.

"Kit's in the garden right now?"

She nodded. and we looked towards the desk.

"Daddy?"

"Steal him away then." Mr. Lovegood smiled even as his attention slipped back to the volume on the desk. I could tell he was going already. "Early repast later?"

"If you'd like," Luna said, before glancing at me. "That is, if Dean's cooking."

I chuckled.

"Don't I always?"

"Ninety percent of the time," she replied with a small smile before turning on her heels. "Come along."

I followed her out of the room and found myself admiring the way she moved. She might have been a bit forgetful and very whimsical, but there was nothing clumsy about Luna. She was graceful, more comfortable standing than sitting, more comfortable barefoot than That long dress swished around her knees as she moved, a delicate gold ankle bracelet glinting in the sun slanting through the windows when she stopped to get an apple in the kitchen. I admit I used to like to watch her back at Hogwarts sometimes when she'd be wondering around the lake with those silly radish earrings swinging in her ears. Muggy end-of-term time, summer heat - me and Seamus sprawled over the grass instead of studying, watching people walk by. Luna would literally _wander_ her First Year, looking aimless but content as she meandered around the wet grass of the lake's shores. I remember how wavy her hair was, the random streaks of light pink at her temples, the way the sun hit her face and her skin kind of glowed. Her skin was doing the same thing now, as she pushed her way into the garden still with no shoes on.

Male appreciation? Perhaps. Whatever the case, I liked to watch her move.

As she turned to me, I smiled (okay, that was definitely in part some male appreciation but damn I loved to see her go about her business!) and leaned back against the door. Hopefully through this growing bit with the link where we could sometimes feel each other's emotions, I could sense how happy she was. That's what this garden always did for her, eh? And if I was reading correctly, she was happy to have company.

"All you really need to do is sit down." She looked up at me with a smile. "He comes to you whenever you're near anyway."

I dropped slowly, mindful of my size in a way that I never was anywhere else. I'd made the mistake of swaggering in here on my first time and had crushed an entire plant - damned if I'd ever seen Luna look quite so blue. It made me extra careful these days, and usually if I was thinking about it, no poor unsuspecting plant life was hurt in the process. This was the first year, of course, that I'd been close enough to Luna to be a regular party at her home, so the garden was still pretty new to me. Colorful, almost artlessly organized, which leant it more wild feel. It seemed to me Luna didn't do anything that would really take away from the garden's own nature, even weeds to some extent were allowed to grow as their wont. Early and late-blooming flowers, blooming splashes of light cream and startling red, and young bright periwinkle blue and slender yellow and pink shoots - even rare 'black velvet' flowers were alive and thriving in this place. It was lovely to see.

"Dean Thomas, garden helper extraordinaire," I quipped, and got a small smile from Luna. Kit crawled on his belly through the stems of plant, not all that mindful of what he was doing really, and made a beeline for my lap. He was super aware of all comfort zones...and I equaled comfort in the extreme. I'm surprised I trumped the warming plant though - that thing was his favorite outdoors spot. He was looking delightfully healthy these days - all that white fur thickening and becoming smooth, his eyes shiny and alert, and he was awake for most of the day.

"Hi Kit," I murmured lifting him up to look me in the eye. As expected, I was licked right across the nose. I laughed a little then put him back down in my lap where he got comfortable.

"Worked like a charm," said Luna as she dropped down next to me. Her hat was back on her head, fighting off the sun of a rare bright day. "Thank you."

"No problem." I grinned. "How are you feeling about Hogwarts?"

"Hmmm,"she hummed as she worked on uprooting one plant. All I could see was her back. "Good. Finish up this year and freedom."

"Strange to think Hogwarts will be back and functioning."

Her shoulders rolled.

"Very...no Dumbledore, no Hagrid since he's off in France for the Year, and no Snape. Very strange."

Too true, too true. She continued.

"Not to mention fewer classmates - I don't know how many people will actually send their children back."

"The hold-your-darlings close syndrome," I murmured. War would always bring about that sentiment in the populace. Always. "Even so, one more year to go and you'll belong entirely to _The Quibbler_."

We slipped into silence, me stroking the cat in my lap and Luna successfully transferring the plant from a basket of soil and into the earth with its own kind. I settled for watching her again, not admiringly now, just interestedly as she gave free reign to her creative interests. The strangest urge to use one hand to pet the kitten and the other to stroke all that golden hair almost took me. In fact, one hand was already reaching out to do so when I caught myself and frowned - this bond was making me a bit loose. She never noticed... _thank God for gardens..._ Before long she was moving away from me, walking along the myriad paths to different areas of the garden to tend a bruised leaf here, a broken stem there, drooping flowers elsewhere. Wherever she went, the flowers seemed to automatically lift. I kept forgetting magic was in the soil here - mayhaps my extra awareness of all the green life was because they _were_ actually far more alert than I usually gave them credit for. At least half-an-hour slipped by this way. Even Kit wandered away for a bit, batting butterflies and generally gamboling about out of reach. I watched him, and watched her. And then perhaps an hour more disappeared. And then Luna was standing in front of me and ready to putter out of her special place.

"Ready?

She nodded and reached down, as if that little hand would help me get up. I took the hand and pulled her down harder than normal, bringing her tumbling into my lap. When she sputtered, I started to laugh hard.

"That's what you get," I teased as she sat up properly, hat off her head and her hair in disarray around her face. Her dress was going to be smudged some more but at least the look on her face was priceless surprise - like she couldn't fathom how a) she got knocked off her feet b) much of stellar prankster talent I had to get her off her feet and c) the why of why she got to be sitting my lap. It was such an unexpected look that I laughed even harder - imagine, her so startled that she showed it - which made her turn...dare I even think it? She was-

"Are you blushing?" I asked in awe. Hadn't ever seen her go pink. Ever. "Luna-"

She brought a hand up to touch her face, as if the blush could be touched. Which of course, when she realized I was watching the whole thing, made her turn an even prettier shade of that lovely color. She blushed very prettily, which was a feat since she hardly ever did it all. No such thing for people of my skin color and I thanked God for it - if my face let out a warning that I was embarrassed every time I _was_ embarrassed, it would get annoying quite quickly. Luna was getting annoyed - yeah, look at her, blue eyes narrowing now as she glared.

"Aww," I joked, "look at that fierce look on your face. It's so fierce that it's _adorable_." The pink forgot all about retreat and rushed up her neck again. God but this was too easy! "Combine it with that pink and I think I have a very stern-looking witch on my hands."

I started to laugh again when she looked on the verge of becoming a storm cloud.

"Arright, arright, I'm done teasing."

I was still grinning as I looked down at her in my arms, then realized that she was _in_ my arms. As in my arms were wrapped around her, not tightly, but... _comfortably_ like that was where they were supposed to be hanging when unoccupied.

 _When the h-_ Creeping up on me all unexpectedly. _Why Dean, what strange thoughts you have._ I What was I going to do next, I wondered?

She pushed out of them with force that said irritation and I dragged her back in. Willfully. So maybe it wasn't the bond and maybe it was me. "I'm done teasing, I really am! Don't be irritated - it was just that you offered your hand."

She channeled Mione and sniffed hard. Which made me want to chuckle because she was even cuter this way. Fighting a losing battle, I was. So I gave in and grinned actually hugged her to me, really embraced her, very tightly. For a moment she was still and standoffish but she relented after a minute.

"You are really very annoying when you wish to be," came the wry whisper. When she pulled back, she was arching an eyebrow.

"Comes with the territory of all those girl siblings."

"Or maybe you're just naturally a pain and hide it well?"

I laughed at that. "And perhaps you're easily overwrought and _don't_ hide that well?"

"Touché," she said and graced me with a smile. "Touché."

She pulled away completely and stood to her feet, the dress skimming and moving and shaking with her. God but I needed to stop thinking about that dress. Thankfully Kit came bumbling along into my lap again and distraction was complete. And then Luna was wondering why I hadn't been hungry for the last two hours, and then I myself was wondering the same thing and then the two of us - ahem, three including Kit the kitten - trooped back into the house.

"Still working?" I asked, when I stuck my head through Mr. Lovegood's lab door. He looked up. "Ready to eat?"

"Finished cooking already?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Haven't started yet but don't I always?"

He inclined his head.

"What's on the menu today?"

I stroked my chin, weighing the question. Because, of course, the matter of food is **always** a weighty question. There was still enough leftovers from last week's meal that I wouldn't have to cook a lot to supplement it for them - seriously, call me Chef Dean Thomas since I was clearly the cook for this household! - and that would only consist of making more rice. And maybe some dessert. And since I was going to be playing Quidditch around six o'clock that eve with the rest, I didn't want to eat too much. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon but I didn't feel like a full meal, go figure. So instead of a real meal-

"Cake," I declared. "More like, cupcakes to be exact. I'm going to make rice for you two meanwhile but cupcakes are what I want right now. It won't take too much time and we'll make enough to feed a small army, which should last you a week or so."

"You mean, a month or so." Mr. Lovegood started to chuckle. "Feel free to make whatever you like, as I'm sure you will anyway. And I'll be around eventually, still working on this here."

I frowned. Here we go - he was already beginning to submerge himself in the his new quest. It wouldn't do me any good to try and convince him that he should come out and eat before I headed out that evening but I couldn't let it go so easily either.

"Alright," I said, shaking my head, "but don't forget. Or Luna will come by to remind you."

He smiled at that. "Doesn't she always?"

I grinned, closed the door, and headed back to the kitchen just in time to see Luna looking like she wanted to cook something. With the flour and sugar already out. I winced. God forbid.

"Luna?" I asked cautiously. Her hand was reaching for something in the cupboard over the sink. "Please tell me you're not attempting to...er...make something."

She paused and sent me a look over her shoulder. I almost laughed.

"Are you?" I asked seriously.

She shook her head and pulled out a massive mixing bowl.

"Good." Exhaled. Reached for my wand, whisking flour and sugar and margarine from the fridge into the bowl. Shot her a look designed to irritate. "Because I'm handling that right now. And you wouldn't want to burn the house down again."

"That was _one_ time," she said, now thoroughly and openly exasperated, "and there wasn't even much of a fire. _And_ I caught it before _you_ did."

I had to laugh.

"Someone is just so _extra_ touchy today! Something in the air, perhaps?"

"Someone in the near vicinity, perhaps?"

"Ah," I paused and pouted at her for effect. And then added in hands on my hips for a better effect. "You break my heart when you say things like that. I'm sensitive, remember? And can be easily provoked to annoy the life out of you if you make me sad."

This got a lovely tinkling laugh out of her, and she was still laughing like that when I dropped a bit of icing on her nose. The laugh turned into a signature Luna Lovegood almost-gasp (she never gasped aright). Then shock flitted across her face.

"Did you just-"

I backed up, grinning all the while, as she sputtered in the most un-Luna like fashion, swiping at her nose so now the white was smudged all over her nose. When she dropped her hand away from her face, a little bit of the white stuff rubbed against the front of that blue dress. She looked down, more shocked than when I'd swiped her face, and then looked back up at me. Elegant Luna Lovegood couldn't be put together with all that vanilla cream on her face and down her dress, and seemed to be awed by the fact.

"Indeed I did."

I continued to grin at her, then arched my eyebrows in a way that she would read as challenge.

"Your face was missing a little something-"

_Sploosh._

She took the challenge seriously. Speaking took a back seat as I landed on my ass, courtesy of quick thinking magic that created a puddle of water beneath my feet. I'm sure I looked like an idjit on the floor, mouth open, mixing bowl still in my arms but some of the icing now on my shirt. It would be comical, the exact same way that I looked down at my shirt and saw half of my precious batter on my shirt, then looked up at her. Had she really just done that? Had she really just took up the challenge?! The messy but elegant Luna Lovegood smirked - smirked, by Merlin! - above me.

Forgetting magic, I used my hands to lob the rest of the stuff at her and was rewarded with a splatter dead center of her chest. And then it was just outright war. I got that bag of flour and dumped it all over her by brute strength while she pitched sugar at my head and got it in my eyes. Never mind the sugar - I was going to get water from the sink and make her into the beginnings of a baked good if I had a chance. Indeed, I found the thought so very pleasing that I whispered the Accio spell to get strawberry preserve hurtling through the air from a cupboard across the room and then made sure half of it got into her hair. She retaliated, quite violently I might add, with catsup and mustard - let's just say my trousers looked like artwork when she was done. Then there was a pitcher of water, something with pumpkin, perhaps some ice cream was in there. When she threatened to dump banana peels from the garbage all over the place - _that's_ when I panted out the terms to a truce.

"We even?" she gasped, a hand on her side. She managed to toss her strawberry splattered hair over her shoulders and peer up at me through the powdered sugar on her eyelashes.

Were we even? She looked adorably messy. And kind of...delicious. I puzzled through that thought for a little bit then pushed it away to answer the question.

"Oh yes," I grunted. "Even. Clean up?"

"Together?"

I nodded, leaning back against the sing and breathing hard.

"Deal," I heard her say. Something about her voice made me look over, start to chuckle. That adorable little dress would have been ruined had she been Muggle. The blue was buried under a myriad of other...er...colors and substances. And yet, even with jam in her hair and flour between her toes, Luna Lovegood was as pretty as a picture. But damn if she didn't look a mess! The chuckle turned into downright laughter. When she caught my eye, a smile tugged at her own mouth.

"Did we really-"

"-just do that?"

The floor was a righteous mess - smeared jam ground into flour and sugar and was that curry on the floor? Where the hell and who the hell had used curry? Water turned one side of the room into a white paste, mustard was splattered on the low cupboards and over a bit of the rug leading out of the kitchen and into the hall, pumpkin pie crust was crumbled over the tiles and had somehow gotten to a windowsill, while our bare feet were covered in ice cream.we'd really just done that.

...we'd really just done that.

I burst into another peal of laughter at the carnage around the room, looking at it then looking back at her, then looking at it again. When the kitten poked his head , she dissolved as well. And that's the way Mr. Lovegood found us, huddled together on a messy floor and bubbling over with mirth, when he walked in five minutes later.

/-|-\

"Short break!" I called to my partner-slash-assistant Eric across the loud room. Monday morning and I was at _The Quibbler_ 's office for an all-day staff meeting to talk about the next month's issue. Or at least it had been scheduled as an all-day affair but really was going to take much less time to clear up. Field assignments had been assigned but there were problems with us being one short

On the agenda today was this meeting, lunch with Gin and Hermione at the Burrow (which meant lunch with Hermione and the Weasleys and Friends), and afternoon browsing in magical London at this new jewelry stop that had opened with funky pieces. A pretty easy going day as far as I could see. Maybe a spot of tea at home with Daddy and gardening in the late evening.

Sounded like a _perfect_ day to me.

"Hour or half?"

"Half," I responded. "No lunch for me but do you want me to get you a sandwich and coffee?"

He smiled gratefully and nodded, before chief-editor snagged him and called his attention to the sheaf of documents in her hands. I grabbed my purse and my wand, headed across the room and out the exit, then off to the bathroom to apparate from their. In no time I was standing in front of the Muggle bagel shop that had become a regular favorite among our employees, and a big hit with Eric especially. It was a rather nice establishment with outdoor tables for those rare sunny days, and a cozy for a crowd inside. The lunch rush line had already formed - this might take all of my break! - but at least it gave me time out of the office. I hummed as I waited, thinking about the upcoming afternoon, then hummed some more and thought about radish earrings. I wondered what else I would discover in that shop - mayhap I could get a present for some people. Yes, since I was going to meet Dean's family for the first time since the letter (and the third time in all - I'd met them twice with the rest of our friends before this) a present for all would be nice. Adi liked to read, didn't she? Hermione could help me pick out a book. Naira was a singer so perhaps something along the lines of music would suffice for her. And Mrs. Thomas? I felt this unsettling need to impress them now. Could I-

"Miss?" I startled to see the chubby boy in front of me waving a hand in front of my face. "Miss? Your handset's ringing. And the line's moved up. You're almost next."

"Oh," I said, not surprised I hadn't heard it. Happened all the time. "Ah, I see. Thank you...Hello?"

"Luna, it's me! How's the staff meeting going?"

"Dean!" I smiled into the phone, as if he could see me. Bet he could hear my pleasure anyway. "I'm at a bagel shop right now, actually. And it's almost over - another hour and we'll all be straight."'

"Good. Then what are you going to do with all that free time?"

"Late lunch with Gin and Hermione then browsing that new store Twinkle."

"Those poor earings," he teased. "You know, I actually quite liked them. They were very you."

I'd thought so too.

"So are you studying?"

"Yes, yes." His voice was a long-suffering sigh. "It's been four lonely long hours already and I feel a little drained. And I'm hungry. And I wanted to hear your voice so I called."

My chest felt tight suddenly, my heart beating a staccato rhythm in there. I looked down and rubbed it a little, surprised at the feeling. Hadn't I gotten rid of this a week and a half ago, after Neville's party? What was going on? Talking around the feeling was difficult, left me a little bit breathless.

"Ah." I cleared my throat, made my voice more firm. And was hit with a good idea.

"Give me five minutes."

"Eh? For what?"

I looked at the clock on the wall behind the cashier desk then judged the time it would take for the chubby boy in front of me to be done. Good, I'd have time. "Just give me five minutes."

"Uh...okay?"

I smiled a little at the way he made it a question but no time - I was up. "Bye!"

A steaming cup of coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese later, I was dropping off Eric's lunch on his desk and then heading back out to get some food for Dean. It would have to be around his place since I wouldn't apparate with packages. Hunger, I could deal with. The strange beating of my heart would just have to wait.

A massive order of fish and chips, a side of tartar sauce that was more like a take-out tub than a cup really, and then three slices of toffee cake - I was weighted down with two boxes by the time I was up at the register of the small cafe where I'd gotten desert. The girl behind the counter raised both eyebrows as if she couldn't believe I would eat all of it but took the Muggle cash I gave her anyway. I stood still, shifting the one package to make room for the other and thanked the girl for bearing with me. Then I was out the door and down the street to walk to his place. I winced a little as I thought of the sort of dent this would be making in my pocketbook for the week but then thought of how happy he would be that I'd come to him with food. That would more than beat out any other troubles, for me. I wanted to see him happy.

_I wanted to see him happy._

The thought struck me as odd. Unfamiliar. And my chest did something strange again. Well, yes, I wanted to see him happy. He was Dean, one of my best friends in the world, for heaven's sake. Why should that be a strange though to me? Why should the shape of those words be so strong, the weight so heavy? It wasn't...unsettling. And it wasn't heavy.

Or shouldn't be.

I found myself rubbing the space right above my heart again, underneath the two packages, and breathing a little deeper to look for calm. It shouldn't be unsettling. It shouldn't be a heavy thought. At all. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself of this truth, the thing was the twisting wouldn't go away. And I couldn't stop rubbing. Not even when I was standing in front of his appartment door, slapping an arm against the door with my busy hand.

At least when he opened door, the look on his face was worth it. Surprise, then a deep pleasure that suffused his face. He was quiet but smiling so fully at me that I smiled too.

"I brought you something," I murmured - wow, was I feeling shy? Had I ever felt shy in my _life_? This was unfamiliar. If I hadn't been so captivated by the look on his face, I would probably be rubbing my chest by now. As it was, I had to settle for wincing on the inside and then breathing deeply. To re-center myself. "Hopefully it's enough."

Without a sound, he pulled me close - really close, so close that it was heat...so that _he_ was heat - and settled his face into the crook of my neck.

"You are an amazing girl, Luna Lovegood," he whispered.

It should have tickled but it didn't. And I would have laughed had I thought about it closely - I was? Because I'd brought him food?. And perhaps it did and I couldn't notice since my arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his neck and I was trying to figure how and when and why I'd done it. "You really are. I wanted to hear your voice but seeing you is even better, I think."

 _...Oh!_ I bit back a gasp as the twisting returned, harder than before. What the h-...no, what _was_ this feeling? How could I concentrate on the present when my body was going wild? I was going to have to hire my own Medi-Wizard soon, to fix my ailing heart. Because it wanted to break out of my ribcage and lay itself on the floor. And I felt extremely uncomfortable because of its efforts. Which made me aware of how closely intertwined we were - and still hugging? Could he hear me, that my heart was going out of control - I mean, _I_ could hear me and that was no mean feat. If I could hear me, then Merlin, _he_ could probably hear me too! This was such an awful time for it to feel this way when I wanted to say that it was nothing, no big deal, that he was more than welcome and I'd do it anytime. I was going to have to go to St. Mungoes. Get myself checked because this was becoming more uncomfortable at the moment.

Really.

He puffed a little puff of air into my hair and then let me go. That interaction had probably taken more than ten seconds at maximum.

It had felt like a month.

With another dazzling smile, he looked to the left and right to make sure there were no Muggles and then floated the boxes into the apartment and down the way. I thought he would turn away, turn around, to go back in but alas no. He took my hand and tugged me inside while holding on the whole time. But the weight was getting worse instead of better and I had to stop him and take deep breaths. Immediately, the pleasure dissipated in a wash of concern.

"Are you alright?" I waved him off when he would have touched me. He looked a little disconcerted by that, and then even more worried.

"I just need to breathe," I said softly. The air was helping a lot already. "My chest started hurting a little while ago. I-"

This time, Dean moved to pick me up and I had to back up quickly.

"Space is good." It was a plea. "You pick me up and it won't help very much."

He looked anxious and frozen- I could see the cogs turning as he weighed my words. I could tell he itched to pick me up and carry me to the couch, what with his arms being unnaturally still, but he settled for standing on the other side of hallway. Really, breathing was getting easier and easier. Just to look down and lean against the wall was doing wonders. The twisting dissipated slowly but surely - the discomfort went away completely. He watched nervously and carefully the entire time...I ignored it. But before long I was well enough to smile at him reassuringly.

"Much improved," I said. "See? Much better."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded and pushed off of the wall.

"You still need me out of your space?"

I shook my head. He looked doubtful.

"I won't come near you if it's going to relapse or something."

I smiled a little bit. He really looked like he would walk about ten feet in front of me until we got to the kitchen. And the hallway wasn't all that short so he could definitely maintain such distance. I gabve him a look, trying to get him to smile but he wouldn't. _Wow_ , I thought, _he's really worried._ It was nice for him to be so worried.

"I'm scheduled for a check-up at St. Mungoes soon anyway. Might as well make it next week so I know I'm fine."

"When did this start?"

"This one? A few minutes ago, while I was getting the food." I placed a hand on his tense arm. He looked at me, half ready to move if my chest were to go into palpitations again. "Look at me, I'm fine. I'm alright. I'm not sure what that was but I'm sure a little bit of rest will clear that right up. So, stop worrying - it's alright."

He gazed at me. Reached out and stroked my face, then touched my hair.

"As long as you're sure," he said slowly. "As long as you're sure."

"I am, I am." It was my turn to pull him the rest of the way to the kitchen, where the boxes were sitting neatly on the counter top. I turned him around and pushed him gently towards the food, then went about to get a large dish he could eat out of. He stood there, still gazing at me carefully when he thought I wasn't looking. I pretended a large smile so that he would kick back and sit down. Only in degrees did _that_ happen. By the time I got him in front of the fried fish and chips, I had less than ten minutes to get back to work.

"Now, will you relax?" I exclaimed, "and eat a little bit? Come on, I know you're quite hungry after _four_ hours of intense studying. At least, let me know if you like it. I've got to go back to work in ten."

He smiled and then held out a chip. I ate it without question.

"Good, good," I said around the food.

"Where'd you pick it up?"

"Hm, two streets down from here - it's called Stuart's Fish & Chips. Dessert's from our usual."

"Yeah?" he asked. I nodded, taking another chip from his plate. "Thank you for this. And thank you for coming here. Even though you're body is apparently breaking down."

It got a little laughter out of me.

"Could I leave you hungry and fending for yourself?"

"Oi," he said with affront that I knew was a joke, "I fend rather well. In fact, I often _fend_ for you too!"

Heaven knows that was true.

"I concede."

"And get that check-up - if you don't by next week, I'm going to schedule one and take you there myself." He looked very serious about it. I resisted the rare urge to snort but he wasn't done. "I want you taking care of yourself - perhaps a little less gardening at night? Or at least come home from the office earlier, if you can. Whatever it takes, just...just take it easy. Alright?"

I patted him on the arms without actually making a commitment to any of those actions. Always worked to get people thinking you'd agreed. Then I dusted my hands off and stood to my feet but stole another fry before I started moving

"I'm letting myself out - going."

"You didn't agree," he called in a warning voice. "Are you going?"

I smiled and waved over my shoulder before calling out-

"Already gone!"

"You look fine now," Hermione was saying doubtfully. Meeting for lunch had turned into meeting-for-late-afternoon-tea instead. She wasn't touching her frosted doughnut or sipping at her tea. No, arms folded. Looking like I was a problem she was going to solve. "And you say this happened once before? At Neville's two nights ago?"

"Yes, it did."

"Do you think it could be indigestion? Maybe something you ate?"

"That affected her heart?" interrupted Ginny. "Is that even possible?"

"Oh yes," said Miss Know-It-All, as the boys so often called her, quite knowledgeably. I hadn't the faintest idea whether she was correct or not but since she was almost always correct, it wouldn't hurt to believe her this time too. "But I've never known you to have indigestion. In fact, you're like Ron and Dean. You eat whatever you want without anything happening to you."

"That's why it's so strange," I murmured.

"Schedule that check-up for sometime early next week," advised the redhead. "You'll know for sure after that. Meanwhile, all you can do is be on the watch for that sort of thing happening again."

I nodded. She was right.

"I'm going to want to look this up but there's so little information to go on..." Her voice trailed off, as if she were already imagining flipping through the pages of a heavy volume of healing text to look for the answer. If we let her daydream too far, she'd up and leave to go actually _do_ it. I looked at Ginny meaningfully and the girl took the hint.

"Never mind about that. How are things with ferret face?"

"Peachy."

This was said with a stony look on her face. Peachy. Of course. A toothache looked less pained than that face.

"Really," I deadpanned.

"As peachy as can be in the circumstances," she said stubbornly. She still looked like...

A gargoyle.

"What happened?"

"First real fight today, I guess." She sighed, pushed her pastry out of the way and propped her chin in her hands. "All because I asked him a question."

We'd been waiting for something like this to happen. No way Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were going to get through this betrothment unscathed.

"Seriously, I can't believe the nerve of him! I had to go home and watch the telly for a whole two hours before this, before I could calm down enough. Ridiculous!"

"Hmm," hummed Gin, "well that's one landmark out of the way."

"I despise this arrangement," said Hermione earnestly. "I really do. I am at my very _worst_ when I am around him - I am snarky and angry and irritating when he's near, and I really don't like that. I wish I could be a little more mature about it, be more mature about _him_ but then he does something-" - (she jabbed a hand into the air at this point) - "and I'm at wit's end and ready to be cruel. How can I stop myself?"

"It's hard, isn't it, when you've been set in a way of handling that person for so long." I sipped my tea thoughtfully. "I'm not going to say anything like 'don't worry, it'll be okay' because it won't, not without work. Are you willing to work at it, even if he doesn't?"

"See, that's the thing," she sighed, "I don't want to be reasonable if he won't. Because his unreasonableness will surely defeat my effort."

Gin inclined her head. "Hear, hear. I think this is just going to have to run its course, for now. The best you can do is maintain civility. After that?" She shrugged elegantly.

...It was up to the two of them.

'Mione looked grim - I couldn't imagine that she had been doing any less than that, but I agreed with her: your effort is only as effective as how well it is received. And it sounded like the two of them weren't doing an awful lot of receiving. Or trying to understand each other. Because I love Hermione, I do, but she was a singularly-minded witch. Stubborn is her middle name. Change does not come easy to her and I've never been sure if change is entirely welcome.

"Well," I said softly, "well. Be firm and be civil. And I think things will-" I searched for the proper word, proper turn of phrase "-follow as they are supposed to. They will."

She offered us the half-smile that meant gratitude and a desire to change the subject. I complied.

"So...Padma Patil."

"Padma Patil is unfortunate to be betrothed to my brother," snorted Gin over her tea cup. "That first letter he wrote? The note? Completely unacceptable. I have half a mind to coach him through this process."

"Atrocious handwriting too," observed Hermione with a sniff that wasn't snobby in the least. _Hah._ "And then to decipher that...secret...language and read that note? Is it any wonder that she sent him a Howler in response?"

"Magnificent," I agreed. And it had been, or so I hear. Lunch at the Burrow so that he was set down in front of his entire family plus whatever friends happened to be over at the time. I almost wish I could have been there to see his face. "At least he's learned his lesson."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. What I _would_ say is good luck." Hermione made a face. "Well, that among other things."

"Hermione Granger, Pessimist extroardinaire."

"Made that way by the Ministry!" she shot back. "I could do without the extra stress that damned ferret brings to my life."

"It does seem like they got a few of these 'love' matches wrong, doesn't it." I made it a statement, not a question, and Gin sent me a very shrewd look.

"Including you and Dean?"

...No.

No. I shook my head slowly. Last week, after opening that letter, yes I would include myself. But now? After hearing about Hermione's woes about the bad influence that Draco was in her life, making her feel like she was unconsciously cruel and petty around him, that she couldn't even be civil most of the time? Or Hannah, who's appeal to the Ministry had been soundly rejected on the basis that she and Theodore Nott, son of the killer of her beloved brother, were definitely _meant_ to be together? I hadn't the right to loop Dean and I in the same group as cases like that. Not at all. In fact, it made me all the more grateful to have him, to have someone who already knew me and who already fit into my life, a man that I already trusted implicitly? I had a good deal with Dean Thomas. I had a _very_ good deal.

Hermione pointed a finger. "It's just that you don't believe in love."

"You do like to twist my words don't you." I shot the brunette a glare which, judging by her lack of reaction, really wasn't much of one. I sighed. "It's not that I don't believe in it. I do. I do, I do, I do. I've seen it...and it's there and it _exists._ I mean, how could I **not** believe it when I see the way you and Harry interact? The way Daddy misses my mum? The way even sometimes Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, or your parents 'Mione, get around each other? It's there."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I believe in it for _others_. It's something that I don't see myself getting crazy about - it's not like I discount the possibility that it could happen to me. But-" I shrugged my shoulders, holding out my hands palm upwards, imploring them to help me figure out. Perhaps, go ahead and convince me. Throw proof in my face that maybe it could. Because I hadn't cared on way or another whether I would fall in love _before_ the letter, and now, tied to Dean, I wasn't so sure. And what would change if I did? I voiced my concerns aloud.

"Say, I did. Unlikely and certainly not true at the moment, but hypothetically. Say I did want to fall in love...so what?" I looked from one girl to the other. "How have I changed the game for myself, by my so-called decision to love someone, anyone? Does deciding mean it's more likely to happen?"

"It's an influencing factor, though." Ginny looked thoughtful. "You have decided it's not for you and so you haven't."

If I could roll my eyes, I would.

"No one listens to me. It's not me _deciding_. Nothing so concrete as that. It's me thinking on it and seeing that I'm not really the kind to."

Gin threw her hands in the air. "Which is like deciding not to. You already _think_ that you're not suited for it, so...you aren't. How do you know you that you haven't passed potentials in the past? Boys who did think you were pretty or cute or interesting? You _don't_ because you didn't think you could!"

"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Hermione. "She has a point. So what if you decided to love someone? Doesn't mean that you would. Doesn't mean that if you finally _did_ love someone, that they'd love you back."

"Thank you," I said. "See?"

Gin, like a wise old sage correcting wayword protegees, shook her head as if she pitied the two of us.

"What are the two of you looking for, eh? What kind of fantasies have you been spinning out when you think of the word 'love'?" It was her turn to look around the table. "I said that there were many different kinds of romantic love, and that's true. No couple has the exact same kind of relationship as another. But...are you two looking for some sort of contract? Something unreal? Hermione, are you going to wait until you have a _guarantee_ that you will be the most important thing to him?"

That brought me up short.

"There is _no_ guarantee. None, Hermione, Luna. None."

"I know that," Hermione said, looking pensive. "I do. What we have here is not even the same situation - we've been _given_ the men we're _supposed_ to be with, right? So, Luna, if you decide to love, it has to be Dean." She winced. "Heavens but I hate the 'have to' part of this. Where do they _get off_ just deciding for us? It's not as if we have a choice in who we're going to fall in love with - it's not a kind suggestion, it's a mandate."

"That aside, though," interrupted Gin impatiently. "That, aside, there are no guarantees in any relationship. I don't always - actually, it's a 50%-50% thing these days - see eye to eye with Harry. I expect to be extremely important to him, and we've come along far enough, that I know without a doubt that he loves me. But I'm not looking for a guarantee that we'll always be together. Though I think we will," she said with a little laugh, "

"The whole world knows you will," quipped Hermione. "His confession on the war field of the Last Battle has made sure of that."

I laughed. "Too true. I'm not worried and I'm not looking for a guarantee. I'm not even really thinking about it now. Dean and I are best mates, close friends, and it's good that way."

"And any other way?" asked Ginny, that same shrewd look on her face.

Any other way? Well... _there are no other ways that bear thinking about. Right?_

Right.


	4. Struck by the Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's blinded by the light while Luna begins to see far too clearly.

  _Sometimes, I swear it's like you all are blind. It's dangling in front of your nose! - Mrs. Weasley, on a pair of lost socks, to Ginny (and Luna)_

* * *

 

Thank God for beer.

And alcohol. Because they, it, the two of them, made for the beginnings of an excellent stag night which was the current agenda. A long overdue stag night. At our favorite little sleezy bar in downtown London. The roomates hadn't had one since before the letters, since before Neville went jetsetting off to another country, and things had been busy in the two weeks since. And God knew that Neville was looking a little grim these days, Harry stressing about the Ministry haggling him into creating a family crest, Ron's off and on tiffs with Padma sending him careening from nice and sarcastic to rude and sarcastic.

Yeah, long overdue.

"Firewhisky," murmured Ron, already a little bit gone. He raised that flagon into the air like it was a flag that ought to be waved vigorously. "The stuff of life. The very stuff of life."

"Aye, aye," I agreed. Nev and I exchanged an amused glance. "Although I would lower that back to the table if I were you."

I was rewarded with the drink raised higher and a lopsided grin. Predictably, it slopped over the sides and unfortunately, hit the table and Neville at the same time. I laughed at Ron's lack of surprise and Neville's dismay and then let it go.

"Harry, you alright, mate?" asked

"Now, I am."

Unlike, the redhead, Harry was one of those quiet observant drunks. Harry took a deep drag of his and then leaned back with the thing cradled between his hands. Clearly, he wasn't going to let go of it until it was empty...which mightn't be too far in the future. "Tough week."

If by tough he meant shooting down repeated attempts (owls, phone calls, wheedling, _anything_ ) by the Minister to get the Potter family something legitimately theirs in terms of a 'family crest' then yes, it had been a tough week for Harry. I'd thought it was hilarious that the Savior of the wizarding world was going to be felled by something so inconsequential, Neville'd said it was awfully invasive of something most families consider personal tradition, and Ron had in the end backed out of the conversation altogether. Not that he couldn't be bothered but that Padma and her family was now taking up so much of his previously unoccupied time.

"Tough week?" Neville said, in a voice that was the slightest bit mocking. I laughed at Harry's face. "Well, I suppose."

"Oh, shut up. Dean, you are getting awfully close to Luna, aren't you?"

I had seen this coming a mile away. I grinned and shrugged it off.

"We're best mates, idjit."

"Best mates on the edge of something more, don't you think?"

I kept the grin in place and rolled my shoulders again. They were loony, the lot of them.

"I don't want to know what you all think we get up to when we're together but it's not anything like that."

"Yeah? And yesterday wasn't 'anything like that'?" Harry and that damned smirk.

Okay.

Well, that was a total exception that he had happened to walk in on something that looked suspiciosly like what he probably wanted us to be up to, the creep. Because maybe it looked like I was going in for a kiss but what I was _really_ doing was blowing at her face because she had gotten something in her eye. She'd been blinking so rapidly that I'd just knelt in front of her (because I needed to get on her level!), held her face (otherwise she would have been moving, wouldn't she?), and gotten close (so that I could aim properly!). Harry had taken it and ran with it, telling all the others what he'd seen but twisting it so by the time we sat down to dinner five hours later, none of them could look me in the eye! As if I'd gone all the way right there on the couch with her? Who did they think I was - Lockhart before his accident?

Tcht.

_Not bloody likely._

"And I already explained that to you, you instigator!"

"He doth protest too much," chimed in Ron with a comical knowing look on his face. "You know, I'm not sure why you two made that friendship pact. It's bullshit. Especially since you're apparently _supposed_ to be together. The friendship won't stop you from...you know?"

Ronald Weasley. The picture of clarity. Oh, but he wasn't done.

"Yeah, and I was thinking about it, and you know what?" He stroked his chin then looked dead-on at me. "Luna is actually really pretty. Like, seriously pretty. I never think about it because...well, because I just don't see her like that. But she was all dressed in white and standing after lunch yesterday, and the sun hit her in just the right way and she looked angelic. It was so startling!"

"Oy, you were thinking about what?" I interrupted, half-joking. I found myself reaching out to punch him before I could help myself. "Mate, worry about your own!"

I was half-joking.

But... _half_ -not.

Yeah, well, I'd noticed it too. Ron wasn't the only one. And kept noticing it. She really was attractive in a whimsical I-may-be-related-to-faeries-and-other-mythical-ethereal-creatures kind of way that I found fascinating. Kept noticing it when I was with her. Seriously, it was hard _not_ to notice it these days. Her hair in particular was of such a lovely almost white-gold color that I had to admit Ron was right - sometimes, the way the sunlight hit her lit up her hair like a halo. Whether it was outside walking around, or her sitting in the windowseat in her room, or out gardening with Kit for company...She was really pretty. In a non-classical fashion with wide-set eyes and freckles and that pert nose and her lashes were the same color (and hadn't I just figured that out this week? I'd never bothered to note the color of her lashes before!). And I wasn't going to blame that on the bond. But that was only natural since I was spending so much time with her these days. Day in, day out, we were together for a few hours at the very least.

Speaking of such, she hadn't been to my Mum's home since the letter and since tomorrow was Saturday and I was due for a visit at home anyway, I was taking her with me. It felt weird to formally introduce her like that 'Oh, hey Mum, Luna's actually my betrothed now'. Betrothed. What a heavy old-fashioned word. Didn't seem to fit us in the least. Too much implication, too little lightness. And my entire family knew Luna at least a little bit (Nai said I talked about all my mates at least a little bit). The twins may or may not have forgotten though. Regardless, I felt weird and a little bit anxious as if they wouldn't like her (which was absurd), and a little excited (like I was really introducing my future bride...which I was...but never thought about her that way...)-

 _Why am I rambling in my own head?_ Time to cut the personal chit-chat short.

"Arright, arright, mate. Change of subject," I said then turned to the redhead. "How'd the meeting with the family go?"

"Go?" he said, his eyes focusing on my face slowly. "Go? Hah! It did not 'go'. Terrible, if you must know. Or, er, terribly."

"Don't approve?"

"Don't even like me." Ron snorted, gulped down some more firewhisky, and slapped a hand on the table. "Not just that but they've made it clear that they had already picked out someone before this. And that he's still in the running."

"Serious?" I exclaimed. That sounded miserable. "Wow."

"And Padma?" asked Neville. "What does she think?"

"The chit let me stew about it for a week then told me that it wouldn't be a problem but I'd need to impress them."

"Ah, mate," said Neville with a half-smile. "Sounds easier said than done."

"What's life without a little spice, eh?" the redhead joked. "An argument here, falling out with the girl's parents there...the Patil family is giving my own a run for their money in terms of how much time I spend with them."

And who would have ever thought, right? Life without spice indeed. I couldn't imagine having the family of your future bride opposed to you...and no, not the idea of you but you as a person. Disapproval, and outright denouncement. _Not my cup of tea_ , I thought to myself. Thank God Mr. Lovegood and I had taken to each other way back in April. At first he'd been a little reserved but soon enough, when he found me a willing listener for his looniest spells, I was golden in his eyes. I couldn't imagine feeling uncomfortable at the Lovegood Place...seriously, what kind of backwards world would that be?

"What are you going to do?"

"What I have to."

Ronald Weasley smiled a little bit more, looking like he truly...relished the challenge.

"More power to you, mate." Neville "The very opposite - the Changs like me, it's their daughter that's the problem."

We all turned to look at him since he hadn't talked about Cho from the very start. Would just clam the bloody hell up whenever the subject of the arranged marriage came up. As far as I could see, she hadn't sent any owls, hadn't called to set up meetings with him, hadn't come by the appartment (Ginny and Luna lived their half the time, and even Padma had been up two times or so) and generally didn't seem to really...care. Not that she should - okay, no, she should. He was my best mate and she should care because he deserved a girl who cared. But all that personal feeling aside, I'm sure she wasn't happy about being paired up with someone she didn't know very well but...she wasn't making any effort. Instead, it was all on Neville to make sure they met so neither of them got tired, who had started visiting her parents because they were nice and they reminded him a little of what his parents would have been like had they lived.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, looking back down at his drink.

"She's so..." He looked up at the ceiling as if the thing would drop the right phrase, the right words straight into his mouth. Too bad ceilings don't actually do that. "Careless."

Or maybe they do. Luna would know, though, wouldn't she?

"That's the word. Careless. As in she could care less." He dropped his head and met the gazes of each and everyone of us at the table.

 _Wow_ , I thought to myself. _And wonders of wonders?_ Mate looked irritated. Supremely irrirtated. I hadn't seen negative emotion in Neville in...God only knew when. Was the sky falling?

"And you know that I...really hate complaints, that it really irks me to hear complaints so I hope that's not what it sounds like I'm doing. But she is really beginning to frustrate me."

Second surprise of the evening: he was admitting to her irritating him?

Aloud?

Cho Chang must really be a straight piece to make Nev utter that kind of thing outloud. I felt as if my mouth was in danger of hinging open at this series of awe-inspiring events! And clearly Ron agreed with him because his mouth was doing what mine clearly longed to do as well. I mean, Ron and I were rather straight-forward characters. Irritation, humour, sympathy - Mrs. Weasley always joked that we weren't just open books, that our books were written in bold massive lettering! (The twins had sniggered for a long time after that...) Even Harry was pretty clear - if he was moody, boy did you know it. But Neville was difficult. He'd been becoming more and more serious before the War but after he was captured and tortured by Bellatrix? He could mask pretty much _anything_ he wanted very well. Implacable, hard to read, and not one to make us worry. And that was the problem...Not that he had to weep or anything sensitive like that but he'd smile even if he were tired or upset. He usually walked away from anything that angered him so we rarely saw him angry. Ron, Harry and I sometimes weren't even sure whether we were doing something he didn't like, or irritating him, when he walked away like that.

Pretty much, Nev was like stone.

And the thought made me think of Luna's creased eyebrows, her scared eyes, and that damned vision. I didn't doubt her for a second. Cho Chang was looking more and more like Neville's personal nightmare.

"Mate, it's the beginning of the summer," interjected Harry, clapping him on the back. "I'm sure it's going to take time for the two of you to get used to it. To each other."

"Yeah," said Ron.

I nodded as I didn't have anything to add. Because I agreed. But also because I was worried. If Cho Chang didn't shape up, Luna was going to hate being right.

/-|-\

I came awake slowly with the thumping on the door. Thumping. My door. My bedroom door. Thoughts trickled in every so slowly as I struggled to piece together what was happening. Ah. Saturday morning. Visit to Dean's family. Difficulty waking. Not enough sleep. Thumping? Door? But wasn't it much too early? I blinked hard, hard enough to move my brain to quicker thoughts. Or...quicker at least for me in the morning. So, it was Saturday morning. And I was still in bed. And tired in bed. And there was knocking at my door which wouldn't be my Dad. And today I was supposed to visit Dean's family? So...thumping meant-

...Dean?

_Why was he already here?_

"Why am I already here, eh?"

I blinked. Thoughts coming slowly still. I'd heard the first sentence called through the closed door of my bedroom but everything else was fading out . Any minute now he was going to barge through- spoken much too late. Dean was standing in the open doorway, larger than life and certainly larger than the entry's framework, ducking in and striding to the bed. Had my father known I'd become friends with someone who may or may not be descended of giants, I'm sure he would have built the room even larger. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked around the room while Dean looked down on me. He'd be talking for a little while anyway, no doubt scolding me, but it was difficult to concentrate first thing in the morning.

Perhaps I'd tune him out while I got all my faculties in working order?

Decision made, I returned to the heavy business of waking up. When I was little, my parents had told me that I slept all the time when I was a baby. In fact, Mummy and Daddy seemed to have trouble waking me up long enough to feed me and change me and play with me a little bit. Within a month of birth, I had been taken back to the hospital so that the Medi-Wizards could tell them what the problem was. I have poor blood circulation, it seems, so it always takes me a very long time in the morning to come fully awake. Or conscious, really. Because waking up was a process for me - little movements to get me alert enough to I blinked, a lifetime's worth of time in that blink, and blinked again. Then yawned again. I really was tired. Strange. My hands hit the bed, looking for the warmth that would signify Kit's presence, but I had to rummage around for a bit before I finally found Kit sleeping tucked between the two big pillows. Might as well leave him as is. And probably tune Dean back in. He'd be about done by now.

"...and see? I'm right because I knew you'd be asleep."

 _Hm_. I yawned, blinked, rubbed my eyes all over again, and then tilted my head to look up at the man standing next to my bed.

"You do look tired though," he said with a sympathetic look. I looked at him a little longer, knowing that he'd get that I couldn't speak yet and he smiled. _Good_.

"Yeah?"

... _Huh?_ I...hadn't...said anything yet. _What?_ Pause.

Then-

_Dean!_

His head snapped back and I think it hit us at the same time. He could hear me. And I wasn't speaking. So...he could hear my thoughts?

"Ohhh." The word was a long-drawn out audible version of a shudder. Shock on his face. His eyes on my face. "Oh...oh."

If I'd had the sense of mind to laugh, I probably would have. As it was, all my concentration was taken by being utterly surprised. A thought would suffice but the thought was very slow in coming. It may have been a few minutes later when a concrete feeling developed.

_Ah._

Alright, so that was short. But it startled a laugh out of him and I think smiled in response. The next thought came a little faster.

_But I can't hear what you're thinking._

Still laughing a little, he shook his head.

"It'll probably happen later today...I can't imagine that we'd be more than twenty-four hours apart."

 _What does it feel like?_ I thought.

Dean just sat there and looked at me. Not looking, really. More along the lines of gazing, staring as if I were a whole new person, as if he'd never seen me before. One of his large hands reached out to do something with my hair, stroke it back from my face. He was still smiling from the laughter before and it made him look a little happily dazed. Made him look like looking at me made him pleased with what he saw. Which...I didn't know what to do about. And since my faculties were coming back in working order, it was best that I...at least, think...of something for him to do. And perhaps figure out what to do with this new dimension of the relationship. The Ministry was turning into such a bothersome institution.

"You want me to do something?"

It was my turn to startle. He'd heard that?

"Do you-" I swallowed and blinked a little bit. Ah, I was in working order. "Do you think you could control that?"

His smile shrunk to an equally mirthful half-smile. "Seeing as I'm an expert at it already...no."

"Try to stay out of my head."

"Secrets?"

I looked at him for a little while.

"None that you need to know."

I looked away from him before he could read anything deeper into that. There was nothing behind it anyway. And he looked confused when I left it at that. But there wasn't much more to add. And I had to quit thinking at him so that he would get out of the habit of responding to thoughts. Right. So I sat up and rolled my shoulders slowly then bit back a yawn and waved him off the bed. I sat there on the edge, with my legs swinging, and rocked a little as the blood rushed to all the right places. I'd learned a long time ago that getting up immediately usually meant I'd be sprawled on the floor and suffering from bruises for the rest of the day. Dean, who'd never actually woken me up before, stood there a bit confused.

"Luna, I thought you'd been joking about needing so much time," he said a little worriedly. I shook my head.

"Wow." He whistled. "Shall I just carry you to your bathroom then?"

 _Uh._ Eyes widened. I must have thought too long because he took that as a definite yes so-

Not even a groan. He just picked me up off the bed like I was the lightest thing imaginable, then turned and started walking.

"Did I happen to think 'yes' in my head?" I said wryly.

"Not at all."

"I thought so. Just making sure."

He just smiled down at me. And the smile made me feel even more uncomfortable than the gaze a few minutes back had. Which really meant that my body was rearing up to do something strange because these days I was feeling most uncomfortable at the strangest of moments. Why did they all come in this varying degree of tightness in my chest? Only yesterday I'd been breathing hard through this thing. Perhaps I should make good on my oath and really go to St. Mungoes to get myself checked out. But what a bother that would be...and first thing in the morning too. Good thing Dean was here at least...if I happened to do something as unimaginable as crumple or faint in the bathroom, he'd get in there in no time. But if I told him that my chest was bothering me again... _He would call off the whole day._

He stopped walking and swung his face downwards and I immediately remembered the bond.

"Why would I call the whole day off?"

"Stay out of my head, won't you please?"

He looked suspicious. I tried not to have a concrete thought. It was...rather difficult.

"Why would I call the whole day off?" he repeated, much more insistent than before. Would that today weren't the day for this to kick in. And with his habit of not letting go of a topic if he became suspicious...

"Because I look so tired." I invented it quickly and delivered it with a voice of irritation. "And I really do wish you would stay out of my head. It's difficult waking up, and it's even more difficult having you respond to every errant thought in my head."

Dean immediately looked contrite. And, of course, I felt a little bit bad afterwards.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll try not to. And if you're really that tired, then we don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I'm sorry too. Didn't mean to snap at you. And I really do want to go and meet your family again - I've been looking forward to it all week." I smiled at him. "Forgiven?"

He started walking again even though he was still looking at me. And now he was smiling again.

"Always."

After fifteen minutes of pottering about the room, pulling things out of hidden places with the accio spell, and otherwise taking a bit more time than I usually do getting ready, I exited the bathroom more nervous than before. And there wasn't really a reason to be nervous. They knew what I looked like, who I was. It's just...

 _Whoo._ I blew a puff of air out of my mouth, disturbing my bangs. _Whoo._

"You don't seem much like yourself, today," said Dean the moment he saw me. "You aren't nervous, are you?"

I wanted to do something uncharacteristic and shrug. Instead, I offered him a smile and took his arm.

"You most definitely are," he said, even as he allowed me to pull him out of the room. He stopped though, and made me stop too. "They already like you. You're certainly not stepping into the lions' den, you know."

I knew that. Didn't really help as much as you would think it would. I suppose he could tell because he grinned at me and reached for his cellphone.

"Shall I call them in advance and tell them to put away all weapons and wands?"

I smiled and held his hand still. "Just let me deal with this, yes?"

Still grinning, he was. But I could tell he was slightly serious when he asked his next question.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, yes, I was sure. Why wouldn't I be sure? Why was I unsure to begin with? I was going to go, and not let on anymore how I felt so Dean would leave off and let it go. Which was for the best. If I were to keep him out of my head permanently, until I figured out a way to really stop him from reading me when he wanted to.

_This day is off to a ripping start._

Not in the least bit bothered by internal turmoil, Dean took my hand and pulled me down the stairs.

'Breakfast?'

I shook my head. I really wasn't that hungry. And knowing a little bit about the Thomases, I suspected there'd be all I ever wanted to eat at his family's home anyway. And, did I mention that I wasn't all that hungry? He smiled over his shoulders and continued down the stairs, through the living room and back to Daddy's study. Who had gone ahead and made a headstart on the wand project, without my help.

This at least motivated me to put my free hand on my hip and glower at him.

"Daddy-"

"Not even a good morning, sweetheart?" He smiled a little, then got up from behind the desk. I could feel Dean's amusement at my side but I didn't bat an eye.

"If you had let me finish, then you would have heard me say that."

"I rather thought you were going to scold me instead," he said, as he walked towards us. "That hand on your hip must have led me wrong, I suppose?"

Of course he was right. And he knew it.

"Good morning," I said sweetly. "Why did you start the experiment early? Didn't I say that I would help?"

"I wasn't alone." His eyes twinkled. "We didn't want to wake you too early, regardless."

He hadn't _been? We?_

I turned slowly to gaze at Dean. Dean, who usually stayed clear of these kinds of experiments. Dean, who was fairly busy with helping out at Weasley's Whizarding Wheezes and visiting his family and preparing for his preliminary Exams in a week and then the Final Exams at the end of summer. He stood there looking a tad bit uncomfortable as I looked at him. I was sure he thought my father brilliant, but he certainly made no qualms about expressing his concern over the safety of most of the experiments. And now he was helping...because...because-

"It's an interesting project," he said. "And I'd rather see him safe while he's experimenting. I have more experience with Healing, anyway, just in case."

I'm not usually so sentimental. Really. It must have been that I'd been woken up so early. But for the third time this summer, I was swamped by emotion that made tears threaten to charge to the forefront. Because Dean Thomas was so...sweet...that he cared to take time out of a rather busy schedule to make sure Daddy would be alright. Who was becoming interested

"Luna?" said the cause of my loss of control. It sure didn't help when he squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to him. "You alright?"

"Yes." My voice came out in a strangely hoarse whisper. Which was my body's way of telling me that tears were close...I mean, aside from all that brimming that was going on in the eye region. I blinked rapidly, shooing those terribly stubborn tears away, and spoke again.

"Yes, I'm fine. Well...good, that you weren't alone." I turned back to my father and smiled. "That's good. In any case, Dean and I are going to head off then, alright?"

Daddy nodded, already in the process of returning to his desk. He spared us a grin though, and told us to greet the family for him. We promised we would, or rather Dean promised for the two of us and said goodbye, while I attempted to return to my center of calm. Sadly, Dean with his newly found abilities to read me like a book, would not let it happen. Outside the door, he pulled us to a stop, tipped my chin up and stared me dead in the eye. No space for me to back away, no quarter given.

"You alright?"

Instead of answering, I rose on the very tips of my toes and slipped my arms around him. The moment my arms slid around the bare skin of his neck something strange happened. Even thinking about it now, I can't find the right words to tell anyone what it felt like.

The closest I can get is this: my mind shivered.

Imagine standing outside under the sun on a nice day. Clouds go skidding across the sky, blocking the sun for a minute, and a breeze blows. In the absence of the sun, the breeze feels cold doesn't it? Take that feeling and making it an entirely physiological feeling. I doubt that I had any outward reaction to the sensation because I was so surprised by it. In the shivering was a growth, and in that growth was something unfamiliar and not of my own mind. It was intuitive and sentient and it was Dean. It didn't take me more than a shocked moment to figure that out. Was this how I felt to him? Did he see me like this? A growth, a glow, a living breathing 'other' in his head? Because with my eyes close, I could see him, if that made any sense. Not anything distinct or tangible but...it was Dean Thomas, nonetheless.

It must have happened in that moment - the shiver, the growth, my understanding - because I was brought back to the present when Dean hugged me back.

I smiled a little. He was beautiful inside of my head.

"Are you smiling?" he murmured, his voice a rumble in my ear.

I smiled wider. "You can feel that?"

"Well, you are smiling against my cheek." His amusement was palpable. "What's this hug for, by the way? Not that I mind in the least, though."

All that sweetness that I sometimes forgot about - Dean reminded me today. Beauty inside and out, apparently, was not a myth either. I believe that I sometimes disregarded the warmth of this relationship, all the good things that Dean had done for me and shown me and led me through - I never took it for granted but I was starting to see that sometimes I simply forgot about it. I hadn't realized that he could still surprise me, that he could still shock me, warm me with the things he did. Those stubborn tears were back. On the verge. But I wouldn't let them fall. Instead I smiled harder, thinking about the year we became friends, thinking about how inseperable we'd become during the War, thinking about him teasing and cooking and bringing laughter into my house, thinking about him helping my father, thinking about the strong glow in my mind that I had characterized as beautiful. Thinking. About all of it...all of him. All of it: Dean Thomas.

At the end of a long silent moment, I couldn't say more than the words I was thinking.

"Thank you," I whispered, hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

/-|-\

I couldn't help looking at her as we walked up the meandering path that led to my family house. I mean, I regularly enjoy looking at Luna because of her natural grace but today was different because she was different. I'd rarely seen her the way she was today - genuinely happy, smiling more. No...

_Glowing._

When I had woken her up this morning, after an hour and a half down in the lab gathering materials for her father, I'd had no idea about her condition. And wasn't I supposed to be a best mate? How the hell had I gone for years without knowing about it? I had felt strange as she sat there blinking ineffectually, trying to clear sleep out of her eyes, staring at me without much recognition, moving incredibly slowly. It had been a hell of a thing to find out but it had explained so much. And I'd felt a little bit like a dunce for not knowing, did I mention that? And then of course: the big surprise of the morning.

Me. Reading her mind. Unconsciously.

I don't think I would have noticed if she hadn't done that mental scream in my head. In fact, I'd probably have continued to answer questions she'd never voiced aloud all day before realizing. When it hit us, when it hit me, I was so shocked that I made the word 'Oh' into a much longer one. For awhile. I could hear her thoughts. Without aid of magic. Or at least intentional magic. I could hear her thoughts. This had to be one of the strangest occurences in my natural born life, despite the fact that it had been mentioned in the male papers. Sure it was supposed to happen but I hadn't given it any thought. And now it had happened, and here I was holding her hand half an hour later and still not used to the fact. How come I hadn't been able to figure out? When I closed my eyes, it was as obvious as a flashlight in the dark. She was there, in there somewhere, not even at the back of my mind but mixed up in the middle of it. When I really thought about it, I supposed she was so a part of me that I hadn't ever differentiated between her and myself. In my mind. This was too confusing for words-

But I digress.

Luna Lovegood was acting differently today. And it had started this morning, after the waking up. After we'd walked down stairs. I could even pin it down to the moment - after she'd found out that I was helping Mr. Lovegood with the wand project. She'd looked at me for a long while, as if she wasn't quite sure who she was looking at, and if she wasn't sure that what she was looking at was real. It had been one of the most disconcerting moments of my week. When Luna pinned the force of her ethereal gaze on a person, it made him feel like she would look right down to the heart of him. And although I'm sure that the heart of me is a pretty good one (or at least I'd like to think so) it was Luna and what she thought was extremely important so this old heart of mine quivered a little bit. She gazed for so long that I had the urge to laugh nervously but then the expression melted into something so soft that I found myself blinking. And saying her name. Not to check if she was okay but because the look on her face made me want to say it. She'd blinked slowly and said something to her father, before turning away.

_W-what...?_

Only after her looking away did I have the presence of mind to be concerned. I'd pulled her outside after saying our goodbyes, had gotten close enough to actually ask, and had been rewarded with...

A hug. A brilliant smile and a hug.

Luna Lovegood wasn't so much of a 'hugger'. In fact, it was usually me pulling her in by the arm, by the waist, by the leg, by pretty much whatever body part I could grab ahold of for bodily contact. And though this new state of affairs, betrothed-er...ness(?) allowed me more leeway to do so, she wasn't as much of a hugger as I was. And so, when she gazed at me with the same 'Who is this person standing in front of me?' look in her eyes, then smiled a smile that made me feel about a hundred meters tall? Before I could begin to grin back, I felt a slight flare...like, like a flame - or perhaps, no a lamp brightening in my mind...and Luna's arms were around my shoulders and she was hugging me.

A brilliant hug, and a rare smile.

I had no idea what I'd done to make her respond to me like that but I needed to find out what the hell it was so I could _do it again_. Soon. Maybe twice a day for the next month...or the forseeable future.

"I don't remember this pathway being here," the girl in question said, head bent as she picked her way. She had this thing about never stepping on the edges of stones, or over cracks, if she could help it. She usually didn't think about it too much but today seemed to be one of those days. She held my hand tightly as she swept her skirt out of the way and hopped. I couldn't help but laugh - it looked like something the twins would do given time alone.

"Oh, it was here but we didn't come through this way." I waved my hand to the left. "I took you guys in through the side door."

She looked up with a mischievous grin... more surprises today, open mischief versus the veiled mischief she usually displayed? "Does it lead through the kitchen?"

I scoffed. "Well-"

"I see."

She let go of my hand (and apparently let go of her thing with stones too) and walked backwards looking even more mischievous. Or not mischievous...not really. More like...

Like...

_Flirty._

I pulled up short as I stared at her, that small smile playing about her lips, her hair doing all sorts of interesting things with the win across her face, and actually felt my jaw drop. She was not even trying to flirt, was she? I mean, not that she wasn't capable of it although I didn't think she was at all, but I really just...Who...what universe...? And then of course, said universe was joining in, and her bright blue skirt was blowing around her knees, making her laugh a little, making her glow. She was probably just being msichievous and happy and the combination hit me in a way that reminded me of the first time I'd ever seen Lavender Brown. The shock was so strong that the whisper of pain that usually accompanied her name in my head was unnoticed. No. In the face of Luna looking so damned flirtatious, everything faded.

"Are you going to stand there looking affronted or follow me up?"

But...damned if I could speak! Even as I stood there knowing I probably looked like an idiot, I couldn't actually shut my mouth and shrug this off. Was she flirting? Was she actually flirting, with purposeful meaningful 'Come here and play' intent? Could God have blessed me with something this rare? Probably not. I managed to clamp my mouth closed but that was about the most I could do. She smiled secretively (secretively? coyly? could it really not be wishful thinking on my part?!) and turned to move away. No response. Just cleared my throat and slowly followed her up, watching the way her skirt moved, the way her hips moved. I couldn't stop staring. I mean, since it was an alternate universe, I couldn't possibly be wrong for watching her this way.

"I _am_ going the right way, aren't I?"

"Ah...yes." I cleared my throat again. "Yes, you are."

The look she sent me over her shoulders was _not_ in any way helpful at all. At all. And such a knowing look it seemed.

"Just-er...follow the path right up to the door."

"Why are you walking so slowly?"

"No reason." _Just that I have this overwhelming need to watch you from behind. And perhaps get my brain back into gear._ "Must be feeling a little slow on my feet today."

She stopped, turned fully, face creased a little in concern.

"You sure you're alright?"

I smiled.

"Why is that such a common question today?"

She smiled back.

"Something in the water, perhaps?"

"Your favorite response." She held out a hand that I had half a mind not to take so I could continue to watch her. But, of course, I'd rather be holding her hand than not, so I took it. Of course.

Of course.

"It's the best ambiguous response," she said seriously as she turned to me. "And it is perfectly normal. Besides, more often than not there is something in the water, that either makes people quack like ducks or breathe fire over-"

Before she could give me a lecture on some heretofore unknown creature that could make me quack like a duck or breathe fire or go potty on the spot or something equally as strange and horrifying, I decided on doing something extremely distracting. That would let me touch her and make her stop talking.

_Think fast -_

I thought it and saw her face change as she looked at me funnily, understood that she'd somehow heard the thought but had no real idea what I was talking about before I attacked her.

"Dean!"

She looked caught somewhere in between humour and horrified surprised, before her face finally collapsed into laughter. I grinned and continued to tickle her as she tried to turn and continue running up the path. No such luck - I wasn't a giant for nothing, after all, and all it took was three big steps before I'd picked her up.

"Dean! Stop!"

Still grinning, I swung her up.

"Or what?"

Now she was gasping for air. Ah, the inner mischief maker rejoiced.

"Dean!"

"Luna!" I mimicked her. I pretended I was going to drop her, just to get a scream out of her, then started laughing uproariously when she actually screamed. She shoved at my chest which only made me laugh until tears were brimming in my eyes. By the time I could get myself under control she was trying her very best to glare at me. And failing, because underneath the glare I could see the begins of one of Luna's more rare smiles.

"I would never let you fall, you ninny," I said, still smiling. I ducker her under the chin (she was light - it really wasn't anything to hold her with one arm) before I pretended to drop her again. She didn't start this time. "See? You believe me."

The look she gave me was like the one she'd given me in her father's study. This time I asked-

"What?"

"I do think I believe you."

I blinked. Such a Luna move, to switch the subject. But...I smiled.

"I know." I let her slide down, slowly, chest to chest, and I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy the contact. Or the way her lips parted in a way that told me she might have an idea as to why I was smiling down at her. "I know."

She looked speechless at that. Which was just so odd that I laughed again, took her hand, and lead her up the rest of the path. It never occurred to me to look past the speechlessness, to peer under the layers of Luna Lovegood, because it never occurred to me that she might keep something from me. Even with her acting so different, it didn't occur to me to look deeper. Because she was always as she had been, if only happier today. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.

The blindness of it all would hit me later. But for now, I reveled in this new Luna, at this new look at Luna. And didn't worry about what would come after.

/-|-\

This place was so much warmer than I'd remembered it to be, the Thomas home. I had a head for detail, I'll acknowledge, but it must have escaped me how much warmth was to be found in this house. From the moment Angela Thomas had appeared on the doorstep with a secret smile she shared with her son, to Naira's rambunctious greeting and Adrienne's shy one, to the adorable twins, I was enveloped in warmth. I watched as he was enveloped by the rest of them - little Sophie and Sammie fairly bumbling into his legs, Adrienne holding his hand, Naira punching him in the arm after he said something (what on earth had he said to her?) then allowing herself to be drawn into a three-way hug with their mother. Warmth. His family was just like him, was an extension of him, was him.

Dean Thomas, family man.

The revelations were surprising me this morning. They truly were.

"Dean tells us you're taking over _The Quibbler_ after graduation." Nai leaned back in her chair, a top-class balancing act that had me worried that she would topple over at any moment. She bit into her apple and surveyed me over it. "True?"

I nodded. "Not so much taking it over but fully emerging myself." I thought for a moment. "It's where I want to be, at the end of it all."

"That's nice," said Adrienne wistfully. Every time I looked at her, I felt like I was seeing an extremely shy female version of Dean. Her eyes were just as wistful as her voice but she smiled at me. "How nice to know where you ought to be."

"I was lucky, I think," I said thoughtfully. It was, actually. I had a feeling that everyone I knew was rather outside the norm: most of us had picked vocations that matched seamlessly with our personalities, and where Harry and Ron were still trying to figure that out...they would. Before the year was out, really. It just seemed like Adrienne was still trying to figure that out. "In any case, I always knew I was going to join up. And I'd always wanted to."

"Besides," Dean broke in with a twinkle in his eyes, "it'll leave your Dad so much more time to devote to his studies."

"Dean says they're a tad bit dangerous," remarked Mrs. Thomas with a small smile.

If I were the kind of girl who snorted, I would have.

"I don't know about that," I responded lightly instead. "I would not put any emphasis on the 'tad' and much more on 'dangerous'."

She laughed and turned to her son. "I like her."

Dean looked at her then looked back at me with a grin on his face. "I do too."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. _Good_. I'd been worried about her.

"The summer's almost halfway over," said Adrienne quietly. I turned to her as Dean and his mother turned at some commotion that the twins were making behind us on the living room floor. "It's hard to believe that it's going by so quickly."

"Are you excited to be returning to school?" I asked. She gazed at me, then gave her brother a long brooding look, then gazed at me again then looked down at her lap. Which I could only surmise to be a sufficient negative response to my question.

"I take it that you're not then," I said curiously. She didn't have to nod for me to understand her. I reckoned it would be difficult for her - the first time being on her own without a sibling in Hogwarts. If I hadn't been so self-sufficient, and had had a beloved older brother at Hogwarts, I could understand it. But...

"Are you ready?" I asked steadily. Her eyes flew to my face. Startled. Uncertain. And a little bit scared. But it was a question that she'd need to answer before too long. Better now than never, really.

"Are you?"

After a long pause, she finally lifted her gaze to my face and I was surprised at how steady she looked

"I don't think so."

I offered her a half-smile. "You will be."

"Yeah?"

I nodded and a slow smile lit up her face, making her look every inch Angela Thomas' daughter and Dean Thomas' little sister. I smiled back t

"Oi," called said brother. Even though he was right at the table with us, and didn't need to be

I immediately volunteered to be his hunting partner, much to the surprise of his mum, and before long we were traipsing through the house looking for the two little troublemakers (who might not have even been in the house, as I pointed out to a very dismayed Dean after learning that they'd taken to displaying magic rather early) and calling their names as loud as possible. Through the living room and the other front rooms, we reached the back of the Thomas home without mishap.

"Are they always like this?"

He looked down at me with a half-smile. "Yes. And they've always been like this."

I looked at that half-smile and felt myself drifting back to the past year. Dean had talked about them so much to all of us that I'd felt as if I'd known the entire family before I'd had cause to meet them. I'd been half-expecting to know me just as well in return and hadn't been entirely dissapointed. It was clear when Dean talked about them...that his family was special to him. Perhaps, the very best part of him because he loved them so very much. Sometimes, it had me looking at him and wondering what he would have been like if they hadn't been there first to expand his heart. And perhaps, what I would have been like with a large close family like this too. I couldn't even fathom it - Daddy and The Quibbler and mother's garden and my sunroom had been more than some people have (and I always thought of Neville when thinking this) and more than I probably deserved. But...

_Sometimes, I wonder._

"Wonder what?"

I looked up, startled. Dean immediately realized his mistake.

"Sorry about that," he said, looking sufficiently chagrined. "Sorry. I'd been slipping on the mind control. It has felt rather natural all-day, eh?"

I nodded. "Strange that we'd take to it so naturally."

"That thought was really loud though." He looked at me curiously. "Wonder what?"

I weighed the words before I said them.

"How different I would have been had I been raised in a family like you and Gin."

"Well, it's not always all that it's cracked up to be," he replied. I didn't miss the wry note in his voice. When he gestured around us, I assumed he was calling looking for the twins one of those times. But he was smiling as he said it. "But I like you the way you are. I couldn't imagine any other kind of Luna Lovegood to know."

I hid a small smile as I turned to check the room on my left. What a perfectly 'Dean Thomas'-like thing to say. If I could-

"Hey!"

I turned around, poked my head in the room to see Dean motioning towards me, with a finger to his lips for silence. Which probably meant-

"Got you!" There was a squeal and really quick movement and then Dean wasn't standing anymore but on the floor underneath the wait of his two mischievous little siblings. I stood at the door, astonished, then amused (how on earth could such little things take down a giant? I'd like to learn that spell!) then before I knew it I was leaning against the door and laughing in a way that I hadn't in quite a while.

"Got who? You little-"

Determination masked his face as he reached for Sophie and Sammie at the same time, then flipped over, somehow keeping them from hitting the floor to roughly. Now the attackers were the victims, so much giggling and squealing so much that I laughed even harder, watching as he tickled them, watching him because he was lovely to watch, because I loved watching him almost as much as I loved h-

_Wait._

I wasn't consciously aware of the laughter stopping, of my body tilting to lean more heavily against the door. Wait. No, no, no, why on earth was my mind speeding ahead to a conclusion before I was ready? Wait. Please...My mind did not want to listen - it wanted to keep traveling on this track until it reached the final destination. And all I could do is stand frozen as his face was turning towards me, he was still laughing at being tackled by Sophie, he was still laughing at being around his family, he was still laughing. And I was watching, with my mind hurtling forward to the thing that had been lurking the back of my head for the last week. To what I had been convinced was not a reality or a truth. To the thing that made it hard to breathe sometimes, made it difficult to stand straight and look him in the eyes about a quarter of the time I was around him in these past weeks. To what it felt like to watch him with his family, watch him with our friends, then distractedly watch him with me. To the thing that made me half-gasp when he was looking at me, smiling, and holding a hand forward. If I could have stopped time then, I would have. Because this was the last conclusion on earth that I'd wanted to come to. The very last.

_Oh heavens above, it can't be..._

I was in love with him.

The air left my body in a rush as a stared at that outstretched hand. Not a gasp...because didn't I tell you that I never gasped? Hadn't I said that I was never so shocked that I was moved to exhale in a loud enough manner to be qualified as a 'gasp'? No. No. I stared unseeing but I did not gasp. Because, of course, I would have picked this method to most effectively complicate my own life. Because, of course, this falling thing had happened despite the fact that I hadn't been looking for it. Because, of course, I'd chosen today (the day our minds merged, the day he'd won me over with Daddy, the day we'd gone to visit his family) to be a ninny and figure out my feelings. _No, no, no._ But...of course. What had Ginny said a week ago? About cutting myself off from it? I guess hadn't cut myself off enough.

I was in love with Dean Thomas...and I was in a boatload of trouble.


	5. Rose-Coloured Glasses

_I swear, I'm out to sabotoge myself sometimes. - Hermione muttering to Ginny & Luna, in the Great Hall, first morning of final exam week Sixth Year._

* * *

It was just like the old-fashioned movie reels that Hermione showed me almost a year ago, the kind of black film that spins outwards and onwards and just keeps going endlessly until your arms are tired of yanking and you're completely fed up with it. All of it. Because the plastic spool isn't even fully unwinded, and you're sitting in a pool of black that makes it as hard to unentangle yourself as it is to put it in order. But you keep pulling even after it frustrates you because you want to get to the end of that heaven-forsaken thing and be done with the pulling and the yanking so that perhaps you can watch the damned movie and make sense of what you're supposed to be seeing.

Forgive me for my rant but-

That's what reliving my realization was becoming: a tedious, endless exercise in how to frustrate, mortify, and humiliate myself.

How I'd managed to get out of his house without the realization coming across the bond, I could never explain. I must have been normal enough to get through playing with the twins, watching Nai clean her instruments and chatting with Mrs. Thomas, for it to slip right by Dean. I'm very good at being unreadable and where I'd always thought it was a reason for the lack of friendships, I couldn't help but be grateful now in the face of this unforeseen complication. Good, great, I'd gotten out of the Thomas home in one piece without my heart bleeding through my shirt. But once home, I had gone straight to my garden for some well-needed alone time. Which turned out to be exactly what I didn't need. I couldn't concentrate enough to care well for my beloved flowers, but sat in the dirt and stared into space for over five hours. Five hours of alone time. One would think that I'd be inclined to run to the Burrow for refuge and advice but God knows that friends are always out to perpetuate what they think the issue is and seeing as the friends were best friends with _him_ and thus biased in his favor (as well as mine which didn't make for any sort of prediction as to what they would say!) I couldn't exactly run there because...well, no. Talk was also exactly what I didn't need.

So, of course, gardening left me with a sense of discontent, as did the spot of tea I had after that instead of breakfast because Merlin knows that appetite was the very last thing on my mind. After looking on Daddy and making sure he was both alive and hungry, which lead me to the kitchen where I had reminders of Dean everywhere (where hadn't he put his stamp in my home?)...I did not need a reminder. And then out of the kitchen, and into Mummy's room to think. Which of course led me to wish that we had a portrait of her so I wouldn't miss her so very terribly at this moment, when I needed advice or _something_ from someone who didn't know him but knew me. And now, the next day, the conundrum remained. I had nothing to help me with this situation. What I needed was to figure out how I'd gotten to this place, then figure out how I could reverse the carpet and park elsewhere. Or perhaps descend from the tree that I had barked up, or get out of the kitchen before I destroyed it terribly, or get off the broom without crashing on the ground below. Or take out the weeds without the gardener being any the wiser that there had been weeds in the first place. Or...or...or-

I slammed my hand against my pillow.

Because I hadn't had a wink of sleep last night - not even a bit. Kit had given up on my constant movement all-night and left the room on his own. Volunteering at _The Quibbler_ this afternoon would make the day even longer than it was supposed to be. It was already ten o'clock and I'd meant to get moving two hours earlier than this. And I'd left my phone somewhere downstairs in the midst of all the turmoil and heaven knew that something had probably happened last night that needed dealing with. Which meant I should get up.

And not ramble in my own head.

And perhaps get my life together in the face of this new reality.

 _Yes,_ I thought to myself, pushing a hand through my hair then pushing myself upright. Eyes closed, head back. _That's what I'll do._

"This is certainly not where I'd expected to find you so late in the morning."

The unexpected sound of Dean's voice had me snapping my head forward so fast that I thought I'd accidentally sprained something. It also had me slamming down mental barriers so quickly that my head must have snapped back even farther. I was fully clothed but I found myself reaching for the blanket and pulling it upwards before I could look him in the eyes. Which was extremely ludicrous because I was fully dressed, in fact fully covered from neck to ankles in my standard long nightgown, but I still needed that blanket to be a protective shield between him and I. Have I mentioned that I was fully dressed but still felt at a _disadvantage_?

Looking at him was a mistake because he filled the doorway in a manner that made that now-recognized long-familiar ache in my chest return. Now that I knew what the ache signified, it hurt even more. Which was ludicrous. Everything this morning was ludicrous. This day was gearing up to be a day _full_ of the word 'ludicrous'. I drank the sight of him in as if I hadn't seen him yesterday. He looked as he'd always looked, except... _more._ I think it's because I was primed to notice more than the usual today, that it was crystal clear to me just how broad his shoulders and long his legs were, the way he liked to cross his ankles even when standing. He looked fresh, as if he'd just left the bath to come here, and the freshness made his usual good-looks even more apparent.

Which did absolutely _nothing_ for my poor heart.

He ambled through the door like he owned the place, like he belonged here. Kit ambled in behind him, twining about his legs until Dean bent to pick him up. As he stroked the cat, he looked at me.

"Are you going to sit and stare, sleeping beauty, or say hello?"

It was nothing more than the way he usually talked to me, the things he always called me, but it was like submerging me in warm water. Or perhaps a wave. Something liquid and flowing and very warm that I nearly succumbed to thinking something sappy and over the top. It was the melting feeling that put me on edge. When he made for the bed, I had another mini-heart palpitation.

_I don't want him anywhere near me._

Heaven help me but I was shocked at the thought. There'd never been a time when I hadn't liked being with Dean. But this little 'love' bit was throwing a wrench in my psyche. No way could I handle him being this close to me on a bed. Merlin forbid that another 'I'll carry you to the bath' scene unfolded - I was going to save myself the trouble altogether. Before he could say a word or get to the bed, I was rolling up and out and trying not to break into a flat-out jog to the room in question.

"Give me half an hour, alright?" I tossed over my shoulder without looking. "I'll be done by then."

 _Right._ I didn't wait to hear him he reply, didn't look over my shoulder to see what he was up to should hold him off and give me time. Time to what, you might ask? Time to ruminate upon my problem some more.

...

 _Right._ Which was, like I've said, not such a good idea.

Needless to say, by the time bath was over, I was reduced to figuring out ways to put up a more effective mental wall. This would be the kind of wall that allowed for no slippage, even accidentally. What with this magic that the Ministry had implemented...heavens only knew what sort of backlash I could get into with errant thoughts. No. That was indeed not the plan. I'd have to pen Hermione a letter to ask her to look into it, then pen Hannah right after to see if she'd come up with a way to combat it as well. If she'd even had it. Because-

_No one is as close to theirs as I am...except for Ginny._

And for reasons unfathomable, I didn't want to talk to Gin about it.

"Fine," I said aloud, getting out of the bath. There was nothing like depending on yourself when times got difficult or strange. Or both. The best I could hope for was Hermione's information on the bond, then the Dean Thomas was too blind to see me. Mental dialogue would be confined to the bare minimum, if at all. That was the top priority - keeping things normal so he would _never_ find out. Drying off with a quick spell, I opened the door a crack and peered out. The boy was smart - no longer in the room so I could get dressed. But there was a sheet of parchment on the bed.

"Let's stay in all day at my place. Checking on your Dad. Come down soon."

I blinked. This had 'danger' written all over it but...but if I could get through being alone with him for the day, I could get through everything else Providence wanted to throw at me. A test of sorts, you see. I would not fail this one. If he had his way, we'd be sitting in front of the telly all day so there was no need to wear anything special. This called for a baggy tee long enough to be a dress and leggings. Never mind that I put on a little extra scent, that I made sure my hair was a little bit wavy. No such thing as wanting to look good in front of him: I just wanted to be comfortable.

Being in love with him changed nothing.

_Being in love with him changes nothing at all._

I repeated it to myself as I pushed the door open, walked slowly through the Sun Room, walked down the stairs. When the smell of breakfast hit me midway down the stairs, the words slowed down to an occasional mental mutter. I smiled to myself, though - 'checking on your Dad' now included making breakfast for the Lovegood household. At least he wasn't relegated to the task of handling household chores - though I couldn't cook to save a life, cleaning was fairly easy and even a little bit enjoyable for me. I may be forgetful and a tad bit messy but I am _always_ clean.

"Dean?" I called as I padded across the living room. "Are you down here?"

No audible sound but then in my head-

**_Kitchen._ **

He poked his head out to prove his point, and I was slapped again with the newness of consciously recognizing him as good looking. And hearing him inside my head. I'd have to discourage that altogether, if I could. He smiled and retreated. I took a deep breath and walked as if putting one foot in front of the other was the most normal and unplanned movement in the world. Normal and unplanned, that was me today. I would be normal. And completely myself because, like I'd said, being in love with Dean Thomas would change nothing between us. By the time, I proceeded into the kitchen (in a very normal and unplanned manner, mind you) Dean was almost done with the kippers. He was singing out loud, a nice deep tenor that bordered on baritone, a smile on his face as he reached to his right to get a set of plates from a cupboard.

"I thought you would never finish your bath," he said, shooting me another smile before he maneuvered the breakfast unto plates. "What do you want to do today?"

"Wasn't lazing about your offer?" I crossed my arms and watched him.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted to do but I needed a break from studying." He stood back and let magic levitate the dishes out of the kitchen, and presumably, to Daddy's study. I would never understand how Dean had mastered spells the likes of which I'd only ever seen Mrs. Weasley use regularly. He wasn't even looking to see the plates and pumpkin juice arrived safely at their destination. He wiped his hands on his trousers, and with a flick of his wand, set the two pots and pan to cleaning themselves in the sink.

"That and I needed to see you again, seeing as how your face is one of my most favorite faces in the world."

He said it so factually, so _non_ cheek-in-tongue, that I blinked before my brain really absorbed the words. In Merlin's name, he hadn't even been looking at me when he said it but boy was he smiling a very small private smile at me now. Had he said this a week ago, the words would have been received with the pure pleasure that comes with platonic friendship. Sadly, this wasn't the Luna Lovegood of a week ago. This was the Luna Lovegood of today. All the girlishness that had escaped me in the years before - I could see that it was all coming back now, just in time for me to make a fool out of myself in front of the one man I couldn't bear to look idiotic to.

Just when I was getting ready to say something fitting in response, Dean clapped his hands.

"Well, that's that." I wrinkled my brow in confusion before I realized that he was speaking of breakfast. And then stared at him some more, since clearly he had no idea that he had just rocked the foundations of my now-fragile world. "I don't think you need anything, do you? So shall we get going?"

I blinked. He grinned, that personal little grin he seemed to always save for me, and extended a hand to me.

"Well? Shall we?"

I blinked a few more times in the course of a single second before realizing that the key to acting normal was to _actually_ act normal so that he wouldn't catch on. I stopped myself from squaring my shoulders (Dean was far too good at reading body language and I had to be completely natural) and took his hand firmly, then smiled brightly to cover up my previous lapse. If he pushed then I would blame it on my inaptitude in the mornings - low blood pressure and what have you not.

"We certainly shall." I pulled him over to the fireplace.

In no time, we had Floo'd ourselves into his apartment. He flipped the light switches in the place, then dimmed them to a low comfortable setting that made the rain outside seem homey instead of cold.

"Movies? Or telly?"

"Telly?" I said, automatically. I was curled into the couch, around all the pillows on the left side of the thing. "Perhaps looking for a movie on the telly?"

He laughed as he made his way back to the couch. I talked myself out of stiffening as he dropped next to me like a stone then was distracted by the yawn that I'd been battling all morning.

"Oi, pillow please." I moved a single pillow from my pile. He gave me an amused look. "You're hoarding those?"

"Just in case I fall asleep, which is looking more and more likely."

"Sleeping beauty is certainly your name." He grinned, handed me the remote control, and nudged me in the side. "Move over a bit."

When I did, he maneuvered himself expertly and quickly between the couch and my body. So fast that I hadn't had time to react before I found the back of me melded to the front of him. To say that I was shocked would have been an understatement. All those other things that we'd done before - the hand holding, the hugging, the falling asleep together at his place or mine - were normal within the confines of friendship. This shouldn't have been so far out of the scope of experience but by Merlin I wanted to simultaneously leap off the sofa and curl into him. Which made me stiffen noticeably. Which was not a good thing since he would notice right away. Or not...since I could feel him breathe deeply behind me, though he made no move to sling an arm around me.

Strange. Now we were 'spooning' without really 'spooning.'

"You alright, Lune?"

His voice was low and familiar, and it rumbled right through me. I would like to claim that I did not melt at this point, well not 'melt' exactly anyway, but my body was far looser than it had been before he'd spoken. I tried to marshall myself into being suitable blase about the situation before responding.

"Fine." I hoped I'd aimed for airy instead of breathless. I took a deep breath and flipped through the channels, looking for something to watch. Sadly, the world was not on my side today. Three times the channel we landed on had something to do with a man, a woman, and some sort of hard surface upon which were the man and woman. Be it a wall or a bed or a kitchen table.

I cleared my throat as best as I could and settled on something that looked vaguely unthreatening.

"A documentary?" His voice was so much of a question that I ended up tilting my head back to look at him. Bad idea. He was so much more attractive when he was right in my face. "I thought you wanted a movie."

"A-ah, yes." I cleared my throat again and tried to relax...again. "This looks interesting."

"The lives of tortoises?" Now he looked down-right dubious. I started to laugh at his expression and he talked right over the laughter. "I, for one, am not going to enjoy learning about tortoises. I know everything I need to know about them at the moment."

"Fine." Still laughing, I handed the remote to him. He took it, pretending to be miffed, so I ended up laughing a little bit more.

"You must be in a good mood today," he said, dropping the mock anger. I knew I was in danger of seeing him smile so I turned back to the TV, snickering every now and then. Even without seeing his face, I knew he was smiling as he flipped the channels. Football (and not a game including West Ham, sadly) was on, and since I knew how much he loved to watch it, I told him it would be alright to watch the litte left of the game. While he crowed behind me, I got aquainted with my new reality.

I was in love with Dean Thomas. I was also very close to Dean Thomas. I was supposed to be meant for Dean Thomas but we'd already made a pact to remain friends at the start of this thing. So, to survive my unfortunate timing, my plan was to remain normal around him. The trick was this - he was so familiar that it wouldn't be too difficult to be unchanged but things like this - physical closeness, the things he said to me that could make me blush...now _that_ would take some mental toughness to get through. I frowned a little because my mental toughness now included the capacity to keep my barrier in check at all times. Last night, I'd thought of how strange it was that I'd taken to it so quickly. I could feel him in my head - it felt as if he were a shoot in the soil of my thoughts. I had a feeling that if I probed the plant, cupped it in my hands, it would bend for me. But I had no way of knowing what else it - he - would or could do. And I didn't want to risk finding out in case I gave myself away.

"That freaking goalie," Dean muttered somewhere above my head. "Well, at least West Ham is still in the running."

I smiled to myself a little...see, that was the kind of thing that kept reminding me that Dean was still himself. He was as I'd always known him to be, nothing dark, nothing twisted, nothing mysterious. Charming, honest, kind to a fault. I just knew that if I could just focus on the things I'd always known, instead of the newness of what I was now noticing, then I could exclude my feelings entirely.

I checked back just in time to hear Dean start humming something that sounded an awful lot like the word 'movie'. He must have noticed me smiling about because he stopped humming only to hum right into my ear. I laughed aloud and thought-

_Focusing. Focusing can work for the exclusion of everything else._

I focused so hard on the old that I didn't notice the new - when Dean finally curled his arm around my waist like he was meant to take up that space.

/-|-\

"Okay, twice is really not an accident."

Harry, the rank bastard, was taking off at the speed of light again. This time? He'd walked into the apartment with Ginny (who had been suspiciously silent all night about it) to find Luna and I fast asleep on the couch. He was talking while buttering croissants that Fleur had sent over via Ron earlier this week, and waving the knife at key points in his monologue.

"And this time there was no 'Oh, well, you see I had to get close to blow chaff out of her eyes' to use. Nope." A little stab in the air with that knife. "Not at all, mate. Because there isn't any good reason you can offer to explain away why you were _wrapped_ -" another jab- "around Luna and the two of you fast asleep."

"Before you get ahead of yourself and tell Ron and Nev that I did something somewhere with her, let me tell you that it's not like that." I reached for a croissant. "We were watching television, we got tired, we fell asleep. End of story."

 _Though I wish it wasn't_. The thought caught me off guard mid-bite, though it was a fairly common thought. I'd been wanting to spend every breathing moment with Luna for some reason. Probably the bond. Probably. I pushed the thought to the back of my head.

"But, it is exactly what it looks like. Wrapped around each other? It is exactly what I think it is."

"So, how about the puppy that I'm getting?"

Harry eyed me over the table. "What about it?"

"Well, we're going out to the pound to get her tomorrow. I'm going to text you as soon as we pick so that you can start loving her too."

He smirked.

"Of course you will. Nice try, by the way. Can we get back to talking about you and Luna?

"Dean and Luna?"

I tipped back my chair to see Gin padding down the hallway from Harry's set of rooms. Of course she'd reinsert herself into the conversation within minutes of entering the living room.

"Please tell your boyfriend that he's wrong," I pleaded around another mouthful of pastry.

"Harry?" I resisted ribbing her with a duh-Harry look. She propped herself unto the stool next to me, then propped her arms up on the island counter. "He's almost never wrong, these days."

I rolled my eyes when Harry shot me a triumphant look but was distracted when I turned back to Gin. She was regarding me with the most curious look on her face - serious, appraising, like I was someone entirely new to her. What was it about me that females kept turning that look on me this week?

"What?"

She gazed at me for a moment longer then shrugged her shoulders.

"Nothing."

 _Nothing?_ I blinked and slowly finished off my croissant. The look on her face disagreed very much - and the look on her face said that even if she didn't say it now, it would come up later. It also reminded me of a girl I never failed to think about everyday... _Lavender._ She used to look at Seamus the exact same way when he'd done something she didn't like, as if by sticking her nose in the air my best mate would repent at her feet. I used to laugh whenever it happened, knowing that I was going to be audience to either a row or something disgustingly couple-like which would end in snogging. I stopped at the picture in my mind of the two of them laughing together, heads bent together. Dark and light together.

Just stopped the memories. Then I looked away, hiding it behind something else.

"Alright," I said outloud. Ginny's look had changed altogether and I was keen to distract her. Stopping the memories was enough to put it away for a few hours. "Arright. But Harry, if you could not be a gossiping housewife, that would be very appreciated."

"Shall I cross my heart and hope to die?" he asked. I punched him in the shoulder automatically, and was satisfied when he winced and wheeled backwards.

"You do what you have to, mate, to make sure that you keep it to yourself."

When he nodded and turned to Gin about something or other, I mentally checked out of the conversation. Luna Lovegood was always on my mind now, always, and I could feel her in the middle of it too. A breath of fresh air, a wind blowing my thoughts around and about every few minutes. I couldn't believe that it hadn't always been like this - had we really been best mates before? Because it seemed that we were the very definition of the phrase now.

Yesterday had been comfortable but different. She'd been mostly the same, but I coould see the edges of that new Luna I'd seen at my Mum's home. Only the edges though. I'd found myself wishing that she would let that side completely out. What I hoped for I couldn't put into words - a chance to know this version of her too? I knew so much already but Luna was constantly reminding me that you can never completely know a person. They can never cease to amaze or surprise you. There was always something else, some depth that we hadn't plumbed, some topic that we hadn't ever discussed before, some new spin on an issue that we had debated already.

The Ministry's sneaky little law had granted me this and I was thankful.

"Dean, you know where she is?"

"What?" I checked back in. "Where who is?"

"Your girlfriend."

I glared at Harry before correcting him. "My best mate?"

"If that's what they're calling it these days," he shot back with a tilt of his head. "Where is she?"

She was out at lunch with Hannah at the moment. _Or,_ I thought looking at the clock on the far wall, _she should be._ I hadn't gotten a voice message from her yet but I wasn't worried. I could feel her in me. Nothing could be wrong - it was a steady beat.

"Out to lunch with Hannah Abbott." I glanced at the wall again then looked back at him. I didn't know how much he knew about that situation but he knew enough.

Hannah had petitioned for a change in betrothed and failed. The Ministry was not recanting the law, and they weren't recanting their choice of husband. Luna had told me that the letter had been adamant on both counts, and asked that she "understand the situation" and "look at him in a different light". Hannah didn't know that Luna knew, and I doubt she wanted anyone to know who'd killed Alfie, so I don't think she included that bit of info in her letter. But, God above...I'd choked on air when I'd heard it (can you imagine? this law being forced down your throat and now the bitter after-pill of "please understand and deal with it"?) and Luna had looked incredibly sad. As she should be since the Ministry had now made very sure that Hannah Abbot was not in for an easy life. Not by a long shot.

Harry's face was suddenly somber, reminding me that the post-War Harry Potter was capable of much deeper moods than before. Better to stave that mood swing off. I waved a hand and smiled airily enough.

"Who knows how long that'll take? I'm sure Luna will come back soon."

"You say that as if she lives here." His smile was more of a leer than anything else. "But then again, she practically does."

"Oh, shut up!" I rolled my eyes. If I'd had something to throw at him, I would have. Too bad magic was off-limits in the apartment or I would have shut his trap for him. The little snot.

I stood up and dusted my hands on the kitchenette towel, then thought better of it. I was going to grab the last two croissants on my way out anyway. I think the thought hit Harry at the same time because we ended up grabbing for the remaining two at the same time. I crowed when I got them both, then as revenge, polished one off right in front of him.

"Seriously?"

"Don't ever underestimate me, Potter." I grinned widely and made smacking noises. "Now, I'm off to the Lovegood Place. Tell Gin I said goodbye when she comes out, since I'm not going to wait."

He gave me a dirty look before taking the empty plate to dump in the sink. I smirked as I walked to the fireplace and removed a pinch of Floo powder from the jar.

"Oh, don't be bitter, dear dear friend. It's only fair."

"Yeah, yeah," he yelled. "Break a leg on the way there."

As if I could. I just laughed outloud and stepped into the fireplace.

He'd been saying that Luna practically lived at our place (which was a gross exaggeration), when in truth I really lived more at her place than mne. Now that I was dead set on helping Mr. Lovegood out with his experiments, I was actually over here 70% of the time for her and the rest for her father. We'd abandoned attacking the problem with a spell and now were going about potions to soak the wood in, instead. He usually had more than one test trial running at the same time, and usually the test trials weren't even for the same experiment. I'd had a hell of a time keeping them all straight but like father, like daughter. Chaos and disorder didn't bother Mr. Lovegood in the least.

I stepped out of their fireplace and into the premier living room, with it's sprawling comfy furniture. Books were all over the coffee table, which meant he'd already started expanding out of his lab room and into the rest of the house, which _really_ meant I was going to walk in on a work-in-progress. I started bumping into things on purpose so he'd know I was here, so he wouldn't be startled into misfiring his wand or something. It almost always worked and of course, I was rewarded with-

"Dean?"

"Just got here," I called out. I pushed the door open a little ways to see him sitting on a stool in the middle of the open space of the room. I didn't try to push any more since the ward would end up repelling me half way through the house. Like last time. When I'd opened the door and been flung back so hard that I'd made a dent in the wall. After going through about two other walls. To finally end up in the living room again. Luna, who'd been curled up with Kit on the couch reading something, had looked up with nary a gasp before asking me why I hadn't asked her father to take down his wards first. _Yes, well, I'm never going to forget again._ NHe made the clicking sound he usually made to let down the ward around the perimeter of the area,

I breathed a sigh of relief and he laughed. He knew exactly what that bloody sigh was for. My back was still aching from impact.

"How many running?"

"Three. All for wand capacity."

I shrugged out of my cloak and hung it on the cloak hooks on the back of the door, then charmed it so that it would be anti-water and anti-flame proof. Because that would have to be enough to protect it from all the things that we were going to do in here today. His tests to increase a wand's capacity to contain magic were as interesting as they had sounded in theory a week and a half ago. The problem at the start had been finding discarded wards. I had never actually thought about what happened to the wands of people who died or outgrew them, before this past year. But-

_Lavender...Seamus._

It hadn't gotten much easier in these past few months. The most random things would trigger this landslide of emotion. A few weeks ago, I'd been walking down a Muggle block in London, shopping for something for the twins, when I'd bumped into a man with the exact same build as Seamus. It had been startling. Well...no. Startling doesn't cover how I felt. It'd been a bucket of icy cold water in the face. Had the same effect too - I'd been choking on air in the middle of street before the guy helped me to my feet and asked me if I was alright. Something similar happened with a young girl with the same thick dark chestnut hair that Lavender had - except I'd ended up flagging the poor girl down before I'd gotten to my senses. As I stood in the room while Mr. Lovegood prepped the work bench, I didn't try to stop it. Memories of the two that had been taken from me unfurled in my brain, the first time I'd met Seamus and how we'd instantly hit it off, looking at Lavender in Potions First Year, snickering over magazines that summer at his grandparents house, breakfast in the dining hall after Third Year final exams, his face after their first date, her face after I'd teased her about it. Weird things and little things and things I'd thought I'd bloody well forgotten. I let the grief wash through me even though it would be harder to check once released. And it washed right through me completely.

 _ **Dean?**_ My head snapped back on my spine in shock. _**Dean? Where are you? What's wrong? Are you alright?**_

Luna was in my head. It was like she was standing next to me. Could hear her so clearly and her voice pushed the memories aside.

 _I-_ I felt a shift that didn't come from me, then a feeling as if something had popped and pressure had been released. Before I could even begin to think about what the hell that might mean, Luna's voice intruded again.

 ** _I'm sorry._** She sounded contrite and a little sad. I was confused. **_But you miss them, don't you?_**

Oh.

 _You read me so well,_ I thought back when I could marshall a though together. I wasn't surprised that she would understand but she'd gotten it so quickly. Then again, if she could feel anything that I was feeling at his moment, it would be immediately recognizable as grief. I missed them. I missed them more all the time. _I'm sorry that happened and I'm at your home. Was it that distracting?_ _Don't-_

 _ **Worry about it?**_ This time her thought sounded faintly amused, as if she'd known exactly what was coming. Which she probably had. It softened me, helped the grief wash out a bit. She made a humming sound that sounded like she was teasing more than anything else. **_That's not something I can do, even for you, Dean._**

**_I'll worry up until I'm standing in front of you, and perhaps even afer that. So you sit and wait and I will be there in a little while._ **

The thought was gentle. It felt like she was stroking my face, though she'd never done anything like that. But that's what the tinge of her thoughts translated into. Her hands stroking my face, smoothing my hair. The grief washed out even more in the face of her calm.

_Yes._

I didn't doubt that she would. She gave the impression of another feeling without thought, or at least that's what the cut-off mental communication felt like a wave, before I felt it fizzle out.

"You alright, my boy?"

Mr. Lovegood was peering at me through his lab spectacles. The bench seemingly had long since been prepped.

"Ah, yes," I said slowly. "Yes, sir. Should I start?"

I got the feeling he wanted to ask me if I were entirely certain. I wasn't. I wouldn't have known how to answer that question. After a moment, he smiled and motioned me over.

"You can start at whichever one you like."

I nodded. "Usual procedure?"

"Correct. Start any time you'd like, son. Anytime."

/-|-\

"I'm sorry," I said to the blonde witch across the dinner table. I swung the strap of my knapsack over my head and secured the buckle.

Hannah Abbott looked very business official with her neat office clothing and plain black cloak. We'd set made time to talk over lunch since it had been a little while and now I had to run off suddenly to Dean. She shook her head sympathetically.

"We had a very long lunch already." She reached out and patted my arm. "And if it's important, it's important. You head off to do what you must, alright?"

"Thank you, Hannah, really." I smiled and impulsively reached out to squeeze her arm when I stood. She scoffed and pulled me into a full-on hug. "I'll get going now, alright? I'll pen you a note tonight, most certainly."

"Go." She waved when I turned on my heel and pulled out. "Tonight then!"

I felt bad about it but even as I was turning away from her, lunch was receding and thoughts of Dean were flowing in like the tide. It had been devastaing to feel that. Mid-word, I'd literally stopped as my heart beat out of tune in my chest. A mis-step, like the organ didn't want to behave. And then the plant in my head curling in a terrible way. It was Dean. Dean. Something was wrong.

 _Dean?_ I flew into autodrive. Cupped the plant in my hand, spoke to it. _Dean? Where are you? What's wrong? Are you alright?_

 ** _I-_** His response was halted and I pressed harder. He was there but-

Memories flooded into my head. They weren't mine. They were his. They were the past. They were Lavender and Seamus. The first time he'd met the two of them separately...well, actually a lot of 'first's with them. The room swam in front of my eyes - Hannah had reached out to steady me when I lifted a hand to my temple. Everything in front of me faded in the face of the memories.

_I'm sorry._

So much. The last memory resurfaced - Dean had been looking at the two of them on a park bench somewhere. It was an unusally nice afternoon, the sun's rays in the memory were golden and made everything rosier. I couldn't see what they'd been bending over and looking at but their heads were together and their faces weren't visible. Just the image of the intertwined hair - her long auburn locks and his short dyed blonde buzz cut. He hurt. He wanted them back.

_But you miss them, don't you?_

**_You read me so well_.**

The silence had been as deep as a sigh.

**_I'm sorry that happened...I'm at your home. Was it that distracting?_ _Don't-_ **

_Worry about it?_ Just what he would say to get me not to worry. Which was proof that I should be worried anyway, because he only ever wanted to protect me from things that he thought I needed to be protected from. I stroked the leaves of the plant that was Dean in my head. It hurt. I wanted to tease him out of it but he was closing up on me. I had to get there. I wanted to touch him somehow, to make this irregular drum beat go away. I had to be with him. _That's not something I can do, even for you, Dean._ _I'll worry up until I'm standing in front of you, and perhaps even afer that. So you sit and wait and I will be there in a little while_ _._

I had found myself closing my eyes when something like gratitude came through the bond.

**_Yes._ **

And now here I was, hurrying out of the restaurant without a backwards glance because I had to stand in front of him and see him and touch him and know that he was capable of standing up and smiling. I think he'd never talked about the way he felt about their deaths very seriously. Boys don't talk about these things, do they? Girls, even one such as I who had been used to the loneliness of school life, preferred to deal with tragedy in a group-setting. Merlin knows that had I lost Dean and Neville in the last fews, I would have retreated back home. Back to my safe place. Back to my house with my room and my Daddy and my books and magazine for insubstantial comfort. And it made me all the sorrier because he'd been so much of a charmer that sometimes I don't think I sought below the surface.

_And it's not even unfamiliar._

His was the same thing I'd seen on the face of the survivors, the Creevey parents who had aged beyond recognition. Hannah in the stark raw sorrow the night she'd found out about Alfie. And her more concealed bitterness now, at the Ministry, at the world, at the unsuspecting Theodore Nott who hadn't the faintest clue why her hatred for him ran as naturally as the blood in her veins. That things could be this normal after a rift that had torn the wizarding world to shreds and rewritten 'normal'? If we had been less responsible individuals, the lot of us might have run ourselves hard, turned to vices that would run us so hard that we'd have all run right into the ground to escape.

Oh, Dean. There wasn't a week that went by that I didn't think of Seamus and Lavender on some level. He didn't think I noticed but he had two small photos of them (just like the memory, together, intwined) in the first drawer of his bedside table. A tiny snapshot of him and Seamus together by the Lake sometime, laughing up a storm at whomever was taken the photo, small enough to fit in his wallet.

I bumped into another person as I finally reached the access point outside of the Ministry. A moment later I was standing in front of my home, another and I was walking quickly through the house, down the stairs.

"Hello, darling."

"Hi Daddy." I smiled when he touched my hair but I was quite focused on getting to Dean. "Is he down there?"

Daddy nodded but I was already moving past him. I paused in front of the door at the bottom of the staircase then-

"Hullo," I said softly as I poked my head into the room.

Dean's head lifted, turned towards me. It was all I needed to slip into the room and close the door behind me. At that moment, I wished quite fiercely that I was more like Ginny. My emotions were naturally on a lease - Neville had once said that I was "so used to being reserved that locking down felt comfortable". After the torture, he'd then said he understood. If I could be the kind of girl that ran to Dean to throw my arms around him, I would have considered the merits in the action. Dean turned all the way around on his stool and offered me a half-smile.

"Hullo."

"I came."

"So you did. I knew you would."

His half-smile gained depth and I peeled myself off the door and walked across the room. It was only natural that my hands found his face, touched his cheek. Later I would be affected by how close we'd been and how much of myself I might have revealed in all the little things I'd done but now? Now was for Dean and if now meant standing between his legs and cupping his face so that I could reassure myself that he was okay, I'd berate myself later.

"Didn't I promise that I would?"

He closed his eyes and leaned forward. My hands fell away from his dark skin only to slide up and stroke his hair. This time when he sighed I felt the breath leave him because it blew into the folds of my dress. His hands roped loosely around my knees. I hadn't seen him with all the charm and the energy peeled away for a very long time. Not since the War. He handled things so well and he was a boy, like I said. And perhaps boys just didn't cry. Yet seeing him this way...it didn't unnerve me as much as it should have. The bond told me what he was feeling, and when I put my mind to it, I could siphon off slices of the memories he was remembering now. More of them. He was human, of course, and he wanted them back the way it'd been. I rubbed his back, his neck, his shoulders, stroked him like I could push all the sadness away.

"I didn't want you to worry. I knew you would," he repeated.

Now I wasn't so sure that he didn't mean them both. Regardless, I said the only thing I could.

"Always."

We remained that way for what felt like a long time. Long after the slices of memory dwindled down to one every few minutes, long after his arms tightened around me, long after the tenseness in his back went away. When he leaned back, I couldn't help but cup his face again. Perhaps if I had known what I was going to do, I might have...Merlin, I should at least tell the truth at this point. If I really sat down and doped myself up with Veritaserum, I might do the same thing. Again. Alas, I didn't know that I was going to do that until after I'd done it.

I kissed him.

Not anything raunchy, nothing like the escapades written by anonymous readers to _Witch Weekly_ in the gag section, but I did it. It was like one of those moments when the world slows down and you know what's about to happen but you can't stop it. It was like this one time when I was little, around age five or so, and I'd been climbing one of the trees out by the lake in my backyard and fell off the tree. There was this silence before the fall, before the moment my balance altered and my torso began slipping sideways and my legs were scrambling for purchase on the rough bark, when I knew that this was going to end with a broken limb but my little body just couldn't jerk sideways fast enough to sit upright. As I slid, all the pieces zipped together like a Muggle magnet, like a surety charm. My elbow broke my fall as it was meant to (as if my arm and the ground were two opposite sides to the same magnet, then broke in the valiant effort. This was like that.

Inevitable.

His face was upturned and his chin resting on my belly and he was looking at me and..and..Merlin, I suppose I must have made all the right moves, really. Even as those hands (that looked so very much like mine but were moving without my express attention) lifted his face away from my body, even as his eyebrows arched in his customary expression for confusion, even as I leaned down with my eyes closing automatically with weighty expectation...I knew that this was not going to be good in the grand scheme of my personal plan to keep my feelings off my sleeve. I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it but I just couldn't stop myself. My lips met his, the bond bloomed, my heart swelled, his arms slipped away from me to twine about my back. I was searching and he was careful and all I could do was explore him since he was letting me. His mouth moved under mine, his heart moved under mine too.

When I blinked myself back to consciousness, I wasn't standing anymore. Which of course only made me blink even more because I simply didn't remember how I'd come to be in Dean's lap.

"Wow."

It was a very long-drawn out statement. His awe was a statement on his face too. But his awe quickly gave away to a slow way-too-male smile that made me feel like it was in my best interest to stiffen my spine against melting. Heavens but the way he quirked his lips, the way his eyes focused on my face then looked into my eyes, how he made me feel like a fireworm had taken residence in my chest. It was terribly hard to even wrap my head around the fact that I, Luna Lovegood, had kissed him, Dean Thomas. I'd kissed him. Like a lovesick idiot who wanted to ruin her own plan of secrecy. I instantly strengthened the wall in my head for damage control. While my head was spinning, his arms were tightening around my waist.

I cleared my throat. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Sorry about that," I said around the evil little pixie that seemed to have taken residence in my throat. "I wanted to-"

 _Make it all better._ I bit my lip. The sentence sounded as good as damned confession, excuse my language. I didn't clear my throat this time. But leaving the sentence hanging was even worse so I took a deep breath and-

"Make it all better."

I tried not to wince. It still sounded like a confession. But what could I do? And damn me (again, please excuse my language!) but he smiled so brightly that my heart started beating like a charmed drum in my ribcage. I was going to to lift my hand to hold it in but Dean caught it before it got there, then turned it over and kissed the inside of my palm twice. Which made the drumbeat go silent for a moment, then return harder and faster before.

"Thank you."

The drum was making it impossible to breathe. He curled my hand in his, then kissed my knuckles. Twice. Merlin but I was going to die today in his arms.

"Ah-"

"Thank you," he repeated. This time the look on his face was greatly amused. Perhaps I needed help strengthening my mental block because he looked too much like he knew what I was thinking.

"You're welcome." I fought the blush and lost.

"You're even prettier when you're pink." He smirked. "You're pretty all the time but damned if I don't like the way you look when you color up."

"Dean," I said as firmly as I could, "stop it."

He started to laugh.

"You're not taking me seriously," I exclaimed as I stood up. I hit him in the shoulders. "Stop laughing!"

"You're the cutest when you're angry though."

He dodged the first slap then outright ran backwards and away from me to escape the rest. I kept it up until I was tired but laughing, until he let me catch him and dunk him a good one. Then of course he said something else (something extremely patronizing about weak girls and blonde being the color of frail femininity) which had us going around the room a second time. It wasn't until Daddy came back downstairs and shooed me out of the experiment room that I realized what he'd done. Dean had instinctively dropped the atmosphere down to what would make me most comfortable.

I leaned against the hallway wall and smiled to myself. I may have ruined myself completely today but Merlin knows that it was a lovely way to go. I'd beat myself up in a few hours but...

_It would be a lovely way to go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't kept up w/posting! Here's 3 chapters to make up for it.


	6. Closer Than Close

_"Being 'close' and being 'close to' have to entirely different connotations. When the lines blur, things get messy." – Ginny to Luna on being friends with boys, Fourth Year._

* * *

Dinner at Hermione's has always been an extraordinarily disordered affair.

The first few times she'd pulled us all together for a meal at her apartment, she'd really tried to maintain a sense of order. Ginny had snickered when she'd seen place-cards and ornate settings on the table (really now, even I had raised eyebrows!). She'd tried this a few more times until Ron had finally told her point-blank around a mouthful of spaghetti that she was wasting her time and that they weren't children meant to be coddled. She'd huffed a bit but let off with maintaining order. Now that the group was expanding, that the twins and Lee were joining in to eat and sometimes bringing some of their own friends along, order wasn't even possible anymore. Now we tended to spread out as soon as the dinners began – with the boys communing around the television and us three lingering in the dining room before joining them much later. Chaos reigned, even if Hermione Granger had to suffer a headache afterwards.

Today was a bit different. After the hubbub over the news that Bill and Charlie would be arriving home tomorrow morning, everyone was gathered in the kitchen absorbed in various conversations to talk in and around and over each other. Usually we nagged the boys a bit for abandoning the dining room so early but we couldn't wait for them to leave. Or, rather, I couldn't wait for them to leave. Call me impatient but I'd missed out on so much last night – the deadline for the July edition of _The Quibbler_ was drawing close and I was flying against the clock. I'd only had a few chaotic texts from Gin and 'Mione to alert me to whatever in Merlin's name had happened last night, and they'd been sharing looks all night. I was going to go crazy if-

"Dean, you're going to miss the West Ham vs. North Hampton game if you don't get a move on," I trilled sweetly.

It worked like a _mobilus_ charm. He grabbed Harry by the collar on the way out, then wheeled around to make a plate faster than I could say 'gluttonous'. Suffice to say he was no longer holding Harry, who was also making up a plate at breakneck speak. I blinked a few more times and the two of them were gone and the loud of hum of Hermione's television spitting out sport announcements as an undercurrent to the boys raucous conversation was all that was left to us.

I eyed Hermione who was still standing against a kitchen counter then pointed to a chair.

"Sit." She sat.

"Talk."

And, boy, did she ever. For the next ten minutes, she talked. I made a plate and started eating my salad as she talked. She started with what I'd missed this week – skimming over their daily Copernicus meetings and settling on the day that she and Malfoy otherwise known as 'that git' had gotten into an argument. If you could call it that. I didn't bother interrupting. The point of the tale was not for me to understand the _why_ of the argument but to see that it was the root of what had happened. Which started with the argument, became a full-scaled standoff that lead to a run-in with Hermione's famous adversary – the dark. No one besides us knew that Hermione was mildly afraid of the dark. It made sense – the War had instilled a new fear for the dark that hadn't existed before it.

"I remember how utterly _terrified_ that something was happening. Just-" She stopped and ran a hand through her hair before continuing. "-it pushed everything else out. I wasn't even in the frame of mind to remember wandless magic."

"Oh, 'Mione," I said sympathetically. "Go ahead."

She didn't remember too much about how she got from the alleyway to the Malfoy Mansion. What she did remember is waking up yesterday morning with no idea of how she'd gotten into her 'evil enemy's' home. Breakfast with Narcissa Malfoy had been fairly intimidating though she quipped 'there's nothing like facing down Voldemort to take the fear out of everything else'. Of course she would say something like that.

"He said _what?_ " I must admit that I was on the edge of a gasp. "Wait, what?"

I've mentioned that I am rarely surprised. There's just so much that humanity and the rest of the animal kingdom are capable of that I am mostly never taken unaware. But a fight should not have escalated this far and heaven knows Draco Malfoy should have been smarter than to say something so incredibly hurtful out loud. There must have been some sort of charm on him, or a pixie tangled in his cloak.

"I couldn't believe it either," snarled Ginny. She bit into an apple rather viciously but it was understandable. Draco Malfoy was not even remotely funny.

" 'Why would anyone in their right mind want to rape _you_?' " Her face twisted into what I gathered was supposed to be Draco's voice during delivery. It wasn't pretty. " 'Even with a paper bag over your bushy head and tape over that filthy mouth, I wouldn't go near you for the world's supply of money.' "

"Wow." I leaned back as Hermione made another angry swipe at her hair. "Wow. That's actually-"

"-cruel?" Ginny slammed her free hand down on the table. "Quite. That's not something that anyone really ever need seriously say. Good thing she slapped him."

"You slapped him?" I turned back to Hermione. "I hope you left a mark."

"Luna!"

The smile on her face well-assured me that she had. And had enjoyed it. Perhaps, not at the time though but the thought was making her happy. She'd marched out of the Mansion and into her apartment and then a few hours later had sashayed her way into club _Scintillation_ with Gin by her side. Where, of course, Providence had slammed her sideways with another confrontation.

"Why am I unsurprised by this," I murmured before sipping my pumpkin juice. "But, of course. Why would he have gone to _any_ other club in the city?"

"Merlin knows something was set against her last night." Gin was grinning now. "But at least we looked smashing. Poor Malfoy hadn't the faintest clue what to do with himself. Jealousy personified."

Robert, a young American wizard that Gin and I had met through a series of strange events last Year before the War (ahem, details that I am not at liberty to go into suffice to say that he was an acquaintance of mine and even more of an acquaintance of Ginny's), had been there. I hadn't seen him in a month due to his new bartending schedule, and architect class at the Muggle university in London. Rob was also incredibly attractive - so attractive that he turned heads on a regular basis, was mistaken for popular Muggle idols frequently, and was also a bother to be seen with in public. Outings with Rob were an adventure because you were either mistaken for his sister or his girlfriend. Apparently, if one was female, one had to be related or romantically interested.

No wonder Malfoy had fought. Territorial instincts and all that.

"But let's call a misted bush a misted bush." I pushed my plate aside and laced my fingers together on the table. "Would you have kissed Rob if Malfoy hadn't come along?"

"I mean-"

"Would you?" Gin interrupted her stuttering. "And be advised, you wouldn't be the first witch in the history of the world to ever have snogged that boy. Believe you me."

Hermione's eyes were widened - she was instantly distracted.

"Gin, have _you_ -"

"Yes, but I'll talk about that later. Much later. But answer Luna's question first."

"I would love to say that I would have but the truth?" Hermione shrugged with a smile. "No matter how despicable Malfoy is, I consider kissing to be cheating and that's something I would never do, angry or otherwise. Although God knows that our faces _were_ awfully close and I _was_ sort of staring at his lips but I didn't want to kiss him so I wouldn't have."

I laughed a little bit.

"And Malfoy?"

She shrugged again.

"I find myself surprised at having cause to be thankful to his friends. They were the only ones who could have gotten him out of there. Heaven knows that I might have struck him if they hadn't come along in time, because when I asked whether he would be civil if I unbound him, he blinked a vigorous no. Clearly, even after making a scene he was ready to make _another_ one."

She threw hands in the air.

"I'm so ready to be finished with this relationship! Could he be any crueler? Any more stubborn? Make any less _sense_? Why on _earth_ do boys do the things they do? I need a guidebook, some literature, a text, anything! Reading Draco Malfoy would make far more sense on paper!"

It was the question that most females, witches and Muggle and magical females alike, probably thought about the most. I had no idea what moved Dean to do things he did around me, or say the things he said around me. I would like to think young men are normal human beings who have the same forward thought function as us but...alas, no. Apparently, not at all.

"Was that the last of him you heard?"

She nodded.

 _Well, perhaps that's for the best._ They certainly needed time to cool off.

"I expect the ferret to owl by tonight. Last time she saw him he was bundled up and trundled off like a sack of potatoes." Ginny made a deep harrumphing noise (that, oddly enough, reminded me of Rita Skeeter) and pushed away from the kitchen counter to put some of the empty dishes in the sink. "He's going to want to either talk down to her or make up for it somehow."

Hermione snorted and I laughed.

"I'm betting on the former rather than the latter."

"Aww 'Mione," I said, reaching out and rubbing her shoulders across the table. "It will get better. I assure you, it will."

"It _has_ to," she responded, "because otherwise someone's going to lose a limb. And it certainly won't be me."

This time the three of us dissolved into laughter, and the laughter washed the worry lines away. I stood at the end and hugged them both before squeezing Hermione on the shoulder again. It would come out alright at the end - we couldn't possibly see a good end right now but there was no way that happiness wouldn't find the smartest witch of our age. I grabbed an arm of each and tugged them out of into the living room.

"Joining the party, are we?" Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulders. "We didn't even really get to eat back there."

"No?" I asked, letting go of their arms. "Fine, go back and eat then. I'll stay here."

'Mione smiled and waved me forward before heading back into the kitchen with Gin in tow.

"Oi, Lune!"

"Mmm?" I turned to see Dean patting the seat and Fred looking a bit hassled next to him.

When Harry and Ron, who were on the carpet, started snickering wildly I stopped a little short. It didn't take too much to guess that Dean had probably shoved the redhead aside to make room for me. I laughed as I crossed the living room then laughed again when George rolled his eyes towards his twin for my benefit.

"So clearly it's your girl over your friends, mate?" Fred budged over but shot Dean a look I couldn't quite read. "After all those years of knowing you, I just can't believe it."

"Really?" asked Dean mildly. "Somehow I remember you saying our friendship didn't stretch far enough to cover discounts on that shipment of Acid Fruity Pops."

Harry, Ron and George laughed uproariously while I hid a smile behind my hand. Not for long though – Dean appeared to be done with the conversation because all his attention was on me. I sighed internally as my body went ahead and did its usual 'Oh-but-I-can't-control-myself-around-this-boy' thing which translated into all the signs of a body working under pressure. Elevated heartbeat and increased blood flow, high alertness, and of course the strange desire to let slip my reserve. It was becoming practice now – I had no doubt that I was quickly becoming the most disciplined person I knew. I could run marathons, I was so used to operating at this advanced level of functioning.

Sadly, it also meant that the days I spent with Dean more often than not had me hitting the bed hard. I'd barely had time to garden at night anymore and that was starting to bother me much more than I let on. When I wasn't fortifying my mental barriers, I was alternating between congratulating myself on a job well done and anxiously wondering what he was thinking about me. I didn't want to worry Gin or Hermione, and I didn't want to share my fears yet. Because in addition to the strengthening and the wondering was a new worry-

_Fear._

The kiss had been a mistake. A terrible unmitigated mistake and a doorway that I'd opened without understanding what I was going to let through. Plan 'Heart Off Robe Sleeves' had been undermined by that afternoon because it had done three damned things. Now that I'd had a…taste, per se… of him, it came out to distract at me the most inopportune times. Secondly, it had opened up a whole new plane of intimacy that made it difficult to successfully execute said plan. We were always touching. Always. Touching. There was rarely a time in which we were in the same room and not connected someway. Just like him stretching out his hand to take mine and sit me down next to him. Little things like playing with my hair or stroking my cheek, hand-holding on occasion. He gave and I took. No more kissing though. I did my best to make very sure that we never ended up in a situation where I'd even be tempted. And third fear – that I was in love with someone who already had someone else in his heart.

_Lavender._

Dean either didn't know how to hide his thoughts from me or he didn't want to. Literally he was an open book if I cared to invade his privacy. More often than not I knew intuitively what he was thinking, and did my best to give him the same courtesy. You can say my fears were ungrounded and I would agree with you…at first. Seamus and Lavender were never too far from his thoughts but they were separate half the time. And his thoughts on Lavender were more emotion than word.

Go ahead. Call me a nut. I might even deserve it.

Warmth, adoration, frustration, affection, grief. The feelings were enough to discourage me from rifling through them to get to memories underneath. I can admit that I didn't want to see anything that would make me feel more burdened than I already did. Enough that I was alone in love. Too much if I wasn't but it wasn't me.

"Won't you sit? I-"

"Definitely choosing her over me," Fred grumbled.

"George, if you don't stop interrupting me…" Dean's handsome face was twisted into a genuine frown presently.

"George! _George!_ " I'd seen this one and couldn't warn Dean mentally in time so I just leaned back and watched Fred as he dramatically pointed at his identical twin brother. " _That's_ George, you blooming idiot! My name is Fred!"

The laughter was infectious – even 'Mione and Ginny who had emerged from the kitchen were doubling up. My poor lovely Dean's eyes widened at his mistake and then narrowed again.

"Doesn't matter," he said in a clipped voice. "Just stop interrupting me!"

"Doesn't… _doesn't matter?_ "

 _I have a feeling you knew exactly what you were doing,_ I sent him while I smiled to myself. _In fact, I'm near certain of it._

 ** _Mum's the word, darling._** His hand squeezed mine and my heart skipped a beat at the endearment. Outwardly he scowled and started a different argument that outlined the why individuality was not important in this situation.

"I'm a person, Dean!" Fred raised his hands in an overly dramatic gesture then clapped both over the middle of his chest. "I'm a person with feelings, and _you_ -"

"Are you?" Neville mused with a mock-serious look on his face. He stroked his chin and pinned Fred with an innocent stare. "Here was I thinking you might be a flobberworm."

"Oh get over yourself, mate!" Ron quipped. He leaned over and voiced the next at stage whisper to Harry. "I'm wondering if I pretend to be getting wrapped up in you he'll stop rambling."

"Really? I don't think that will much deter him."

He hummed in my ear, which tickled, which had me giggling and twisting away from him. I didn't have to turn my head to feel him grinning. It was in his voice as he spoke again.

"Well, even if it doesn't deter him, it will definitely keep me entertained. Don't you agree?"

Somehow, my mind was channeling his words into a tunnel that imbued the sentence with far more meaning that he'd probably meant before said words had entered that tunnel. I had to fight an inexplicable shiver (what on earth was I reacting to?) that edged out the laughter. When it became clear that he might still want an answer, I offered him one.

"Ah, yes," I breathed softly. "You're completely right."

That probably wasn't quite the correct answer. Alas, it was all I could do at the moment. He laughed and it went straight to my heart, which he was doing more and more often these days.

"Good because I think I'm just going to keep making you laugh until either you can't handle it or I can't. Let's forget about Fred altogether." I looked up at him just in time to see him give an uncharacteristic smirk as he looked at said twin. "He might work himself into an apoplexy if we're lucky."

I burst out laughing and raised a hand to cover my mouth when I couldn't control it.

"Are you making fun of him, mate?" interrupted George. "Let me know so I can join in too."

I laughed even harder as George received a rather vicious punch in the arm for his troubles, while Harry gave into his mirth with abandon. Hermione and Gin finally pushed away from the wall to usher the boys into behaving which was almost as successful as using oil to put out a fire.

"Alright, alright – half time is almost over and you all are probably going to want to _pay_ attention in five."

Gin shot me a look and extended her hand while Hermione urged more food on the boys (which they happily took) and settled down for the next forty-five minutes of football. Code for 'let's go somewhere else to talk'. We reconvened in the kitchen to the next round of raucous laughter and screaming from the parlor.

"What's happened?"

"Owl from Malfoy himself."

But, of course. Hadn't we predicted as much? I crossed my arms and asked the obvious.

"What did it say?"

Hermione snorted.

"He's certainly not a fan of Rob, and he made it very clear that he isn't going to apologize for last night's fiasco."

I couldn't help myself when I started laughing again but she handed me the short piece of parchment with Draco Malfoy's neat flourishing handwriting all over it. They were right one both notes – the boy was clearly at the opposite end of the apology spectrum. And, in between his stubborn callousness, he somehow managed to flippantly ask her to dinner at a restaurant tomorrow eve.

"Well, he certainly doesn't mince words," I said with a smile. I shook my head. The audacity was probably killing Hermione. "Going?"

"Oh, yes." She drew out the 'yes' in a way that made me fear for Malfoy's life. He'd started something that he wasn't ready to finish. Of that I was sure. "Don't worry about anything at all."

 _Oh, I'm not,_ I thought to myself. _More worried for him than anyone else._

**_Hm?_ **

_Nothing._ I sent him a smile even as I wondered why my mental barriers had let that thought through.

 ** _You sure?_** I got the impression of a cocked head and I couldn't help but smile and send him reassuance. **_Because I will break up that little girl-pow-wow to get to you if I need to._**

_Just fine. Score?_

**_Zero-one, West Ham._** Just as he sent the thought an almighty roar rose from outside the kitchen, that was punctuated by Dean's own grown in my head. **_Scratch that – one-one, West Ham._**

_You keep watching since I'll be out in a minute._

He hummed at me before I felt the connection disintegrate. Right in time to catch my mates in the middle of planning something.

"-if it is, then remind him of what he can't have." Gin tossed her hair over her shoulder then grinned in a way that made me draw back slightly. Definitely planning something. "And of course, Rob can always put in a guest appearance on request. And if _that_ doesn't work, then you can wear something that will give us a good excuse to go shopping at the Muggle boutiques for lingerie."

I blinked. Rapidly.

" _What_?" I asked. "What on earth are we scheming?"

"The destruction of Draco Malfoy," 'Mione responded swiftly, and not a little viciously. I smiled at her rancor then pretended to be appalled.

"All males included?"

"Mostly."

"Should I go ahead and warn Dean of his imminent demise then?"

Gin grinned that grin again and I burst into laughter. She was far too devious for her own good - whatever great ancestor had given Fred and George the penchant for mischief had also gotten the youngest Weasley. Sometimes it was vexing how energetic she was. But at times like this it was refreshing and endearing. I didn't doubt that that's what made Harry fall in love with her all over again every day.

"I'm against the annihilation of men everywhere," I said lightly, "but I'm all for going into this without a care in the world. As Ginny's fond of saying, give him hell."

"Closet?" Ginny burst out, waggling her eyebrows.

Without much of answer and much ado about dragging and pulling, Hermione and I found ourselves being hustled off to her room before Hermione could even agree. The boys tried to call us back but Gin warded them off. Before long the three of us were sequestered down the hallway in her bedroom with clothes all over the bed, Muggle brushes for powder and liquid makeup all over the massive vanity desk, an old-fashioned hot iron instead of hair-straightening spells. In other words, it'd turned into a

I would never consider myself a fashionista by any means, and much of the time, I stick to my favorites. I adore long patterned gypsy skirts, flowing dresses brightly colored scarves, funky jewelry pieces. Dean had been completely right about the spiky black heels I'd worn on our only official date – not anything I'd approach armed with a ten-foot long Mermaid triad. 'Mione however was both more casual and edgier in her look. When she was casual, she was cute. When she was edgy, she could be as attractive as a cover model.

To 'destroy' Draco Malfoy, we weren't even going for edgy. We were going for outright sexy, which I secretly called 'borderline lady of the night'. It was a look that was coming together before my very eyes, complete with smoky eyes, heavy eyeliner and a bustier top that made Ginny faint over the possibilities of going shopping for something like it. I had to laugh out loud when 'Mione fluffed her hair, blew kisses to the two of us applauding her on the bed, and started sashaying her way to us across the carpet.

"Stunning!" I catcalled with a whistle. "He will be beside himself."

"Take a bow, darling," said Ginny with a flowery bow (is it weird that I thought of Professor Lockhart in that moment?). She did and the bustier threatened to bow out as well. Which was exactly as she wanted it apparently.

"You know, I really want to see Luna in what I wore to the club."

I blinked. "What?"

"Come on, come on. I want to see it too!" exclaimed Ginny. "Luna in black?"

"Oh, she'd make it look good."

I blinked again. It sounded like she'd worn something that was only a step down from what she was wearing now. And that was something I'd ever _ever_ put on. Imagine my surprise when the blinking didn't help – I was dragged up and stripped down and was standing in my underthings before I could spell a warding charm. I almost gasped when I saw what it was she had worn! Short black miniskirt, a lacy backless halter looked like it dipped very low to show off cleavage, and heels that were even higher and spikier than Ginny's.

 _Merlin,_ I thought to myself, _where on earth did she find this?_

Funnily enough, even as I half-convinced myself that this was the farthest from me I'd ever gotten in my entire life, the allure of getting out of the box was pretty heavy.

"Pretty please, won't you put them on?"

I looked up at them then looked back down at the clothes. Yes, I was actually going to wear them.

"Oh, yes," I said with a real smile. "Besides, no one besides us two will see me, right?"

It didn't take me long to get dressed but Gin insisted that I wear everything – even the heels. I didn't grumble though – my will had crumbled once the soft lace top had slid over my skin.

"Sit down and I'll do the makeup."

"Oh, come on," I finally protested, "we're not even going out tonight!"

"Does that matter?" asked 'Mione in a way that said it clearly didn't.

"But-"

"No, since you went half of the way you might as well go _all_ the way."

 _Interruption duly noted. Guess silence is really all they want to hear, right?_ I sighed a little then sat down at the desk and let Hermione go to work. It was more makeup than I was used to wearing, especially since I usually did absolutely nothing. Lipgloss, yes. Everything else, no, unless it was a special occasion.

You can imagine that almost nothing was a special occasion.

"Open your eyes, darling." I did. Her face looked amazed. "I don't what it is but you make the 'bad girl' thing look more daringly innocent than I ever could. Don't you agree?"

She looked over at Ginny, who looked similarly stunned. It was a look that I hadn't really seen on her face in a long time so I turned around to look at myself and…

Stopped.

_Wow._

I stared and stared and stared. It didn't even look like me. Silver drop earrings sparkled from my face and a matching silver necklace nestled between my breasts. My eyes were done lightly, with a mere dusting of light silver eye shadow and light black mascara to make them look more alluring while my lips were glossed over with clear lip gloss. _Wow._

Hermione was completely right. Where the brunette would look and the redhead would be sultry, I looked like I was going to seduce someone with innocence. Everything made me softer – the smoky line and blue powder made my eyes so large in my face that I wanted to squint to stop it. Sometime when I hadn't been paying attention someone had curled my normally sheet-straight hair.

"Well then," I murmured. "Well. Wow."

"Indeed," muttered Ginny. The stunned look slid off her face to be replaced by a look that spoke volumes of being mischievous. "Adequate response."

I fingered the curls then touched the tips of eyelashes that were heavier than usual. Then I looked into the mirror and smiled. It really wasn't a 'me' that I'd seen before but-

"Shall I strut too?"

I stood up (albeit a little shakily since I was now on the verge of topping even Ron in terms of height on these heels) and spun around to give them a little curtsey. I looked down at the sheer lace and rubbed my hands over the soft material of the skirt. The long mirror next to the desk was propped up and ready for me to stare some more at myself. It was This time they were the ones clapping while I tried to parade around with my new and improved look.

"I wish you'd let me use magic," hummed Gin. "I would manifest a camera to record this."

"Luna, those shoes are really helping you out." Apparently, Hermione couldn't be bothered to respond. So I did like she had and blew them a few kisses. I was just working out how to walk in the spiky heels without turning my ankle there was a bang then a really brief double knock then–

Dean.

Filling the doorway, jaw cracked open as wide as it could go and eyes glued to me. I don't know how his brain had processed the picture so quickly but it had. He took the scene in and then just stared. My heart stopped at his presence. And perhaps his did too because he was standing there still dumbstruck. My mind shot through so many different scenarios that I couldn't follow them all.

"I uh…Er, I just thought…um, maybe I-" He snapped his mouth shut and settled for drinking me in with his eyes. A long pause and then he finally settled for a word. "Hullo."

"Ah…hello," I said lamely. When I heard snickering, my gaze snapped across the room to focus on Gin (the source of the noise) and 'Mione (the partner in crime). I'm really sure that I gave the two of them a withering glare before Dean cleared his throat and grabbed my attention. "I was just-"

"No, I just…er…wanted to see where you'd all headed off…" The sentence dangled as his eyes did a dip and rise-

No rise actually. Dean's gaze had dipped and was now lingering on my leg.

 _Well, isn't this a scene._ I'd only meant to be seen by these two and the one man I'd be anxious about being seen by is exactly the one that appears stage left. Could have I had the worst luck in the world?

/-|-\

 _Jesus H Christ,_ I thought to myself. _Jesus._

I'd done a quick knock out of habit – the wrong habit. I'd become so comfortable in 'Mione's house that this kind of behavior was becoming normal. I don't know if it would have changed anything if I'd waited for a sound on the other side but, as fate would have it, I opened the door. And my mind kicked forward at lightspeed. Hermione and Ginny across the room. Then this blonde in the room that had to be Luna-

Except it couldn't have been, even from the back, because God knows that I knew my girl like the back of my hand and I'd never seen her wear anything like this before and I feel like I would just know, wouldn't I? Wouldn't I? Wouldn't-

She turned.

And I literally couldn't keep my tongue in my mouth. _Jesus!_ She was – just – who ever had put her in these…clothes…my God, was that a miniskirt she was wearing? And that lace cupped her in all the…what on earth had happened to create this person in front of-

"I uh…Er, I just thought…um, maybe I-"

Oh bloody hell. I hadn't even realized I was speaking to her. I shut my mouth and let my eyes wander with my mind in silence. Wow, had I ever took notice of her legs? Nope, because she was a fan of long boots and long skirts and dresses that dropped down around her knees. My God, her legs were long. Way long. Extremely…very…incredibly and attractively long. But had they always been that long?

Key word: attractively.

I tried to shut my mouth but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes were incredibly wide – she looked surprised. Everything hugged her ridiculously – I found myself paying attention to how small her waist was above the flare of her hips, the way her pretty hair curled around her shoulders…and what lovely shoulders those were, by the way. Her eyes were just so large in her face, such a pretty blue. She was a walking contradiction – the tightness and the sheerness of the outfit somehow managing to look unknowingly innocent. So then I tried to speak to cover up the fact that I rather wanted to stride across the room and hold her up, ogle her, then do a repeat of that fantastic kiss from a few days ago.

"Hullo."

Luna blinked, gazing at me rather blankly. It made me want to apologize and back out of the room quickly.

"Hello."

She looked away from me for a moment with narrowed eyes then looked back. Expectantly.

"No," I said quickly, "I just wanted to see where you'd all headed off…"

And there went the connection between my brain and my mouth again. More staring…or really, devouring with my eyes. I wanted to kiss her. Badly. And though I didn't look at the reasons too closely, I knew that I looked at her and she looked at me and finally a blush rose to her cheeks. It made her look even more like an innocent seductress. And boy was I willing to come hither.

"Maybe I should just-"

"Oh!" It was Ginny, hand to her mouth. She looked around the room then headed for the door. "Harry just called me down."

"How would you-" The redhead cut Hermione off then took her hand and pulled her towards the door.

"The bond," she said as she pulled. Ginny patted me on the arm as she moved past me then I blinked, they were behind me, they were gone.

I looked back at Luna who was looking quite nonplussed. Harry, bless his little heart, was being the very best mate that a boy could have. I'd have to thank him later for giving me this opportunity…since I was sure as hell not going to waste it.

So, like any good bloke would do, I stepped into the room and closed the door.

"You know, I don't usually dress like this," she said. She didn't _look_ anxious but…Her hesitation was endearing, as if she didn't quite know how to react to me seeing her. I smiled, finally sure that my mouth might not escape my control.

"Oh, I know," I said with something very close to a smirk. "I know that very well."

She shrugged and started making hand gestures towards the scattered clothes on the bed and the makeup cases all over the desk and shoes on the floor.

"I usually don't…dress…like this," she repeated. "Just that we were…discussing Hermione's date and then one thing led to another. Really, it's usually not my thing at all."

"I know." I smiled, stepped over a particularly sexy pair of red heels, and walked slowly around the room. She was the end goal, after all, but she didn't have to know that right away. "Hermione's clothes?"

She nodded.

"I didn't know she even owned clothes like this." I maneuvered around another set of shoes and a pair of jeans before standing in front of her. She tilted her head backwards to look at me and I smiled down at her. "But you know what? The look…you look incredible."

Yeah, I was going to do it. I cupped her face (God, did her eyes have to be so blue? It was enough to be distracting!) and leaned in close enough to feel her breath across my face. She seemed frozen with surprise, and I couldn't help but grin and lean closer.

"I'm going to kiss you now," I whispered.

My lips, her lips. I was in control of this for the first time, but I could feel her stiffen and I wanted her at ease. Thought wouldn't be beneficial for this – if she thought, she'd pull away. So I didn't pull her closer like I wanted to – I stroked her face until she finally kissed back. I could feel a little bit of her through the link: hesitant, unsure, incredulity. It was my cue to deepen it, to withdraw a hand from the softness of her cheek and wrap that arm around her waist.

She made a sound that shot straight through me.

Now I couldn't help myself.

"Sorry about that." I was pulling her closer. I couldn't stop from trailing my lips down her neck. God, I had to stop this. I pulled back. "Couldn't help myself."

Luna looked so shocked in the circle of my arms that I chuckled.

"You alright?"

"Um, yes."

"Don't think I've ever heard you use the word 'um'."

Immediate blushing. She was the prettiest little thing I'd ever seen, that was for sure.

"First time I've had cause to use it."

I arched an eyebrow. _Well, well,_ I thought, _someone still has spirit._ I ran both hands through her curls, cradled the nape of her neck, ran my thumbs down the column of her neck. When she shivered, I grinned. Then let my arms fall away and stepped back. Her anxiety was creeping back slowly. So I fought it the only way I knew how.

"Should I carry you downstairs?" I joked. I made to do so and she half-gasped and pushed me back. "On second thought, you should change so that no one else will see you besides me."

She arched a delicate eyebrow.

"That would mean you want me to yourself?"

I ignored how loaded the question sounded.

"Don't I always?"

"I don't know," she said with a serene smile that was close to the Luna I know. "Do you?"

"Constantly." It was the truth, anyway. No harm in telling her what she wanted to know, all though I had no idea what she wanted to hear. The truth wouldn't harm anyone…I think. "I might as well leave and let you change."

 _As much as I'd love to stay and watch…_ Yeah, that was nothing I'd be saying aloud anytime soon. Not today, at least. Instead of brushing my lips against her like I would have loved to do, I nuzzled her neck then let her go. At the door, I turned and offered her a mischievous grin.

"Unless you'd like me to stay?"

She laughed, like I had known she would, and made rapid shooing motions with her hands. I turned and left, thanking Harry for calling Ginny all the way down the stairs and down the hallway that led to the living room.

Two days later, I was stressed. I hadn't seen Luna since the party because of two things. She'd become embroiled in preparing for this month's publication and I had gotten serious about studying like Hermione, which was what it would take to succeed in the Healing Exam. Granted I'd only gotten down to the studying today but at least I was getting down to it.

Charlie and Bill Weasley had finally returned to England, after the former had been traversing East Europe and the other in France with his wife's family. A massive dinner that had started in the afternoon and had me stumbling out with my flatmates after midnight, not a little drunk, to get to our beds early. Neville had extra training first thing in the morning as an Unspeakable. Harry, as the Savior of the Wizarding World, was doing the Minister a continued kindness by meeting with dignitaries from all over. Ron was helping out at Wizarding Wheezes for a hefty bit of money, while looking out for something more permanent.

Now, home alone, I wanted nothing more than to take a mini-break and see Luna's face. If I could just convince her that a little distraction would be beneficial and might even produce more good activity.

_Right._

Somehow, that wouldn't quite pan out well. Usually, she was so absorbed in the present that I'd have to figure out how to shoot her thought loud enough to distract her. We'd had no trouble with distance as of yet. As it was, Luna Lovegood was providing a good study in how to break down mental barriers. Hers were always up and so I was becoming more and more creative to get past them. The girl had me researching ways to do it.

_Luna?_

The thought reverberated, as I'd expected. Closed my eyes and lay my head on the desk to try again. I'd probably have to send emotion with it. I was still reading up on how to send touch but this was as good a time as ever. Whispering the incantation, I said her name then imagined lacing my fingers through hers (yeah, don't ask why) and got an immediate reaction.

_Luna, darling._

**_Dean?_ **

_Hello, my long-lost friend,_ I said warmly. _Do you know how long it's been since we last saw each other?_

Her answer was warm and amused. **_No, how long?_**

_It's been exactly forty-five hours and thirty-minutes, give or take a few minutes._

**_A few minutes?_** I swear I could hear her laugh. **_Such an exact science._**

_It is because it's been so long and I really want to see you! Are you at work?_

**_Yes. Unfortunately, it's looking like a late night tonight again._ **

_I had a feeling._ I leaned back in my chair with my eyes still closed. _But I won't be stopped. How about I sneak over there for a little break? I'm tired of studying and, since yours is one of my most favorite faces in the whole wide world, I'm determined to come over whether you agree or no._

There was definite laughter in her next thought.

**_I suppose that's settled then._ **

_I bet you haven't eaten yet so I'll bring sandwiches, alright?_

**_Sounds good. Tell me when you're here._ **

_Will do,_ I sent before opening my eyes. Yeah, I rubbed my hands together in expectation. Yeah, I immediately headed to the kitchen to pack a basket full of meat pastries and bologna sandwiches with small bottles of apple juice. Yeah, I rushed through that whole process because the rush made it feel like I was going to get there faster.

 _Here_ , I sent her approximately five minutes as I stood outside _Quibbler_ Headquarters out in the Shires. The place looked the same: a two roomed cottage from the outside while on the inside it was a rather expansive office with an attic that housed the print-press rooms, two large full-staff meeting rooms and a conglomerations of offices that were added on by new staff when they joined (as that was the rule). They had funny wards that made one's ears blow steam for hours on end, turned eyelids and noses inside out, or blasted you with giggling charms while dangling you about fifty feet fom the ground. No doubt Mr. Lovegood is responsible for the strange forms of protection that managed to be uncomfortable and painfully bizarre.

Thank God I'd been warned prior to setting foot on the premises. Ginny, that headstrong little chit, came in useful at times.

Real laughter drifted out of the doorway as Luna poked her head out of the front door of the cottage then waved when she saw me. I was so happy to see her that my body was moving long before I told it to, heading up the path at a quick jog then stopping only so that my arms could pick her up off her feet. Her laughter was so infectious that I couldn't help but laugh a little too.

"I take it you've missed me?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"And you haven't missed me at all, clearly."

"Perish the thought. It's just that I've been so buys with everything. Besides it's not like we don't talk at least once an hour."

I finally let her feet touch the ground, before sweeping her hair out of her face.

"True, but don't I always initiate?"

"Are you pouting?"

I started laughing. "Not at all. And look at you dodge the question!"

"Again, perish the thought." She smiled and indicated the door with her head. "I never dodge. Only evade. And the answer to that is no. You certainly don't _always_ initiate."

"Someone's in top form today," I teased. It was taking all my self-restraint not to take her hand in mine. We headed inside and she led the way to something that was-

 _Not_ the office lunch room?

Instead, she started doing something confusing with a stack of papers on a desk while I stood in the doorway and waited. Then got tired and came all the way inside.

"Oi." I leaned against a grey machine that looked so much like a photo-copier that I did a double take. It was a good place to be to watch her. "I'm trying my best to seduce you into eating with me for a few minutes."

Her long skirt swished around as she turned around and arched her eyebrows at me. I pushed away from the machine and lifted the basket a few feet from her face.

"Eh? Eh? Come on, come on, you know want to say yes to this," I sang to her. Her lips extended into a smile and I swayed a little closer. "You do, you do, you know that you do."

"Oi," she mimicked as she took the basket from me. "I do, I do, you know that I do. I followed her into one of the small adjoining non-oval office rooms where staff and employees usually took lunch. She placed the basket on the table and was just opening her mouth to say something when we both heard something from the doorway. When we turned, we saw a heavyset dark-haired woman with spectacles stood.

"Thought I heard singing," she barked as she bustled into the room.

Luna looked as if she would drop a curtsey at any minute. Which was alarming and amusing in and of itself, really.

"Ah, yes, sorry if we disturbed you," she apologized. "You know I think there are a few Quarks in here that amplify sounds. Dean meet Emmy Stance, Emmy meet Dean Thomas."

She extended a pudgy hand to shake and I shook it in a vey business-like manner. She seemed like a no-nonsense kind of woman. Luna turned to me to tell her

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Stance," I said with a polite smile. "Luna spends so much time here that I thought I'd just come by with lunch for her. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"I didn't say you sounded terrible." Emmy Stance said with a miniscule smile. "I came because I haven't heard a baritone that nice-sounding in _ages_."

"Oh." That had honestly been the last thing I'd thought I was going to hear. "Well, thank you, then. I'm trying to her entice her to eat it _with_ me in the fifteen minutes she can spare."

"Did I hear singing?" The three of us turned to find another woman standing in the doorway. Short, dark, pretty, and clearly very perky – this one bounced right into the room. I spared Luna a discreet glance to see her smiling at our latest newcomer. Remind me not to sing so loudly in a workplace. "Must have been you because I know that Luna doesn't sing, and even if she did, it wouldn't sound quite so manly."

This one was Anne Perkins (that last name was so appropriate that I had to fight an untimely snicker) and had apparently gone to school with us. A year younger, a Hufflepuff, family from Greece by the sound of that accent.

_Maybe the heavens are against me having **any** alone time with you today?_

I was more amused than annoyed though. Luna and Gin, as different as they were, were now two peas in a pod. Despite (and in some cases _because_ ) of her quirky ways made friends now rather easily. It was shocking given how much she didn't at school. I'll never forget her telling me back in Final Year what it was that got her talking to Harry ("He was supremely interesting") and Neville ("You know, he's really quite an earnest fellow") and why I had been sort of a second-place relationship. I had paused, stared, and then burst into laughter at her bluntness. Now, it appeared everyone was interesting enough to gather around her.

 ** _It's your voice that's bringing them here,_** she replied without as much as a blink in my direction.

"In any case, Luna, could you give me a hand with something?" Luna went right a long with the aptly named Miss Perkins, but not before I heard-

"You're boyfriend is really cute!"

If it had been possible to manifest a pair of extendable ears, I bloody hell would have. As it was, I had to settle for unobtrusively bending backwards to hear her response.

"No, he's one of my best mates."

A snort and then this from the coworker.

"Sweetheart, best mates don't look at each other the way you two do. Are you sure he wasn't meant to be your betrothed?"

"Well," I heard the hesitation in her voice. I would have given a lot to be able to turn around and look at her at this moment. "He actually _is_ my betrothed but that means nothing."

 _The hell it doesn't!_ I thought angrily. Why I was angry I wasn't quite sure.

"Just wait for it, by the end of summer, you'll..."

Their voices drifted away as they moved around the corner and out of hearing distance. I sucked my teeth in annoyance - of course they would feel the need to move away as I tried to garner more information. And I couldn't ask Luna without arousing suspicion because it would prove that a) I had been eavesdropping and b) I had a vested interest in the answer. I would never invade her privacy by trying to look through her memories of the conversation. Which left me high and dry, didn't it. I almost called out to drag the three women back. Alas, my good judgement rather won out. Ten minutes later I was still wondering whether I'd done right.

"There you are," I managed to not to grumble upon her return without said two ladies in tow. I was busy laying out the spread. It was almost enough to feed Ron and I in one sitting, which Luna would say was enough to feed a party of six. "I was thinking that I'd have to end up leaving before you got back."

"Never you fear - I'd always come back to you." she said as she took her seat beside me. "It looks delicious, Dean. Thank you so much."

"No problem." I waved her hands off when she tried to help, then pulled together a plate for her. "Point to everything you want to try."

"A little bit of everything?" she said instead. I grinned – Luna was definitely _not_ a picky eater, as one might expect – and finished it off before grabbing a plate of my own.

"So what all is left to do? And when's the deadline?"

"A week from now."

"Really?" I bit into a sandwich. "But you're not writing an article this time?"

"Oh, no, I am actually." She grinned and indicated the door with her fork. "Well not 'writing', per se, but co-writing with Christopher Varnish. And he's doing the writing and I'm editing."

"Look at you. We should just call you Hermione, eh?"

Another true grin – so many of them this summer. I was thankful that she was becoming happier, and far more open with me and the rest of our friends.

"But do you have any say in the article?"

"Well," she shrugged, "staff decided that the new set of six writers will be working in pairs for the for-seeable future. Christopher and I decided to alternate story assignments because our writing styles are very different."

She took a hearty bite of her sandwich before continuing.

"But to keep the balance we'll come together and work on every fifth or sixth story in a truly joint manner, before splitting off again."

"Does the staff know?"

"None whatsoever." She did something thoroughly uncharacteristic – a wink! "And Chris and I are going to keep it that way. I might be best mates with Headmistress Hermione but rules can be broken."

I laughed. "I bow down to your deviousness then, Miss Lovegood. By the way, you know how I head into the Shires to visit my grandparents four times a month?"

"Yes?" she paused mid-sip. "It's this weekend?"

I nodded. "And usually when I visit Ma'am and Pappie, I head over to the Finnegan's farm."

"You do?" Luna looked thoroughly surprised. "I mean, I suspected.

"You did?" I was now surprised too. It was her turn to nod before she reached over and took one of my hands.

"Your mother, assuming that I knew, told me about how going to the Shires is always a double visit for you. She didn't ever mention names but I had wondered whom she could be talking to so looked around for what locations the nearest QuickPort terminal goes to." She laced her fingers through mine and squeezed briefly. "One of them was Ireland, so I rather guessed it was them."

Seriously, I was moved to owl my mother and tell her not to tell anyone else. Only the boys knew explicitly what I did…Harry because he'd come with me the first time, She was a smart little witch. I marveled at how quickly she'd deduced it but was distracted when her fingers made a 'come here' motion absentmindedly in the center of my palm.

"I think it's such a lovely thing that you're doing," she said with a sweet smile. "And I think that it's beyond sweet of you to take care of your family so well. I can see why everyone loves you so much and so deeply."

 _She could?_ I didn't want to touch that too closely, lest I make myself nervous then maker her nervous in turn. Or, actually, it would be worse if that didn't make her nervous. If she blinked in that calm way and then just rejected-

"-right?"

"Pardon?"

"I assume you're telling me because you'd like me to come with you?"

"Ah, yes," I said. "Yes, I do. But I know how busy you are and that you have-"

"Oi," she interrupted. I arched my eyebrows at her repetition of my words. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. All I'm doing this time is editing so I'll do as much as I can now and do the rest after that, alright?"

"Are you sure?"

"More than sure." One last hand squeeze then she released my hand to resume eating. "But that means we're going to cut lunch short. Less than five minutes then I'm going to run back to Chris's cubicle."

Sounded good to me. I stood up, flicked my wand, and the basket cover flipped open so that the small blanket could refold itself to make room for everything else.

"Rushing me already?"

"A little bit," I said with a grin. "I need you with me, come this weekend, so I need you gone right now."

"And to think you were so anxious to see me half an hour ago."

"Touché, sweetheart, touché." I closed the lid but lifted the jug. "Want another hit before I put this away too?"

"I'm fine." She lifted her plate but I cut her off.

"I'll get that," I said with a smile. "The lady shouldn't have to work a bit."

"You're extremely sweet, and way too good to me."

She looked up at me from her seat, her eyes shining a little bit. It made me feel odd, taller than tall, maybe even taller than Hagrid, and it made me want to stand up straight. I ended up cocking my head and clearing my throat before I could sound like a fifteen-year old that hadn't hit puberty.

"Not good often enough, I think."

That charming smile stretched into a full-blown grin as she got up. I took the time to clear my throat again. Luna Lovegood really seemed to have no idea what kind of effect she had on me. I wanted to touch her all the time, talk to her all the time, be around her all the time. I was starting to think that it was a combination of having been best mates for a little while, the bond strengthening the need to be together as often as possible, and the fact that it was summertime.

"I'll see you in a few days?"

"What? A few days?"

She pulled me into a hug then put me back firmly. All this voluntary touching was putting me off my game.

"Yes," she said firmly, "a few days. I promise I'll call every day."

"Only every hour?" Mock outrage always did the work. "God, do I have to do all the work?"

She ushered me out the front door of the cottage then made going motions with her hands. She stood with her arms crossed as I walked backwards down the stone path.

"I'm off," I called.

"You're off," she called back.

"I'll see you!"

"You will. Study hard, alright?"

"Will you come over and help me?"

She shook her head, grinned, and waved. I waved back and turned to go, knowing that I'd be feeling the same way until the weekend came.

/-|-\

"This is the main QuickPort, isn't it?"

Another long week of summer was over, and I was standing with Dean and the London 33rd street QuickPort station outside of the Ministry. The magical world had recognized the need for a streamlined movement and had begun setting up these locations a few weeks after the War had ended. It was a quick way for those who couldn't teleport to get around the country, and the idea was becoming very popular oversees as well.

"No, it isn't." He took my hand as we looked around at the strange collection of wizards and witches that were waiting with us. I clamped down on the shiver that was destined to hit me every single time. Somedays it felt like I might never get used to him. He continued.

"I'm certain there are two more on the other side of the Ministry. They're trying to make the streets around the Ministry a central terminal."

"Really?" That didn't sound like a good idea to me. "Won't that-"

"Need security?" he finished. He nodded. "I think that's part of what Neville is working on outside of his Unspeakable work."

"Good because it would make it too easy if someone wanted to attack again."

"With all the new spells that were created during the War, the way we deal with magic and wards is really changing. I think a special defense ops team was created to deal with security for our important buildings, truth?"

"Truth, but we're changing for the better," I concurred. "You sure you don't want me to take one of the packages?"

"Definitely not." He did another half-jump that hefted the packages under his arms a little higher. They were innocuous looking sacks that held presents for his grandparents and the Finnegans. "They're quite heavy and I don't want you carrying them when I can handle them just fine."

Just at that moment everyone surged forward to touch one of the five items that had just appeared like clockwork in the center of the room. We headed towards the dog-eared tome that was only a few meters out. In less than five minutes we made the leap to the Shires (Dean landed on his bum which I thought hilarious) then we teleported to his grandparents sprawling house in the country.

The afternoon went by faster than I would have liked as we spent time with his grandparents. I hadn't thought about what side these were – they were his Muggle grandparents. They knew he was a wizard but didn't seem to know what that really meant. He didn't use magic to do the chores around the house because of the way magic affects electricity. He whispered to me that he only did really little magicks that he could get away with, such as making leaks permanently stop or fixing the roof with an impermeable spell a few years back. The plan for today was to trim the hedges around the and look at the cooling system since it was getting so humid despite the constant rain.

Here, as it was everywhere, Dean Thomas was clearly well-loved. Man of the house back home, beloved grandson down here. I was welcomed just as warmly here (Mama Laura tried to get me to help her out in the kitchen before Dean explained to her that I'd ruin every dish she'd carefully prepared – I was _not_ amused). Dean and Papa Mark handled the chores for a few hours before joining us inside for a delicious simple brush. He ended up convincing them of a few things before we left: to let him install a phone on both levels of the house, to get a new set of light bulbs, and to change their visit to the city home sooner so that they could see Nai before she went back on tour.

By two o'clock we were standing in front of the gate of the Finnegan farmhouse, holding hands again. This time it felt more like he needed to hold something. Needed to hold something or he'd do something else. When I looked up at him, he had lines on his face that made him look a decade older. I wanted to say something but I had nothing to say. I said nothing. I did nothing. And we walked forward, hand in hand, to use the old-fashioned knocker to announce our presence.

"Dean?" The noise was crackly. "Is that you, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come on in."

The heavy gate swung in, and we felt the wards stretch and let us through. My eyes doubled in size (I mean, I'd never been there before). The grass was mostly well-kept, the porch looked clean and the flowers in the front were a splash of wild color in the front. As we walked up to the steps, I don't think Dean realized that his grip on my hand tightened. I couldn't remember what Seamus' parents looked like – I hadn't been to the funeral. Still, I said nothing. There was nothing that I could say.

A figure appeared in the doorway – a small much older man whose watery blue eyes were an exact match for the friend lost. The hair at his temple was going gray early, and his spectacles engulfed half of his face, but Mr. Michael Finnegan stood with a small smile and a welcoming hand.

"Dean," he said as they embraced and pounded each other gently. "Good to see you, son. Good to see you. Who is this?"

"This is one of my best mates, Luna Lovegood."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," I said softly. I smiled when he took one of my hands in both of his. "You have a beautiful place here – I especially love the flowers."

"My wife's lifework." He looked at me. "Do you garden?"

"She does," Dean answered for me. When I shot him a look he looked apologetic. "Sorry, I'll let the lady talk."

"I do, as Dean said. It's my favorite pastime."

"That's good, that's good. Now won't you two come inside?" He held the screen door open and everyone moved inside. "I've been meaning to get over to your grandparents' place for brunch but haven't been able to. The missus has been feeling a little under the weather, you see."

"She has?" Dean sounded alarmed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Nothing to be worried about, son." Mr. Finnegan clapped him on the arm. "A little bit of cough that's almost gone."

It didn't stop Dean – I could feel the anxiety rising off him in barely concealed waves. He pushed ahead and disappeared into the parlor. Neither of us hurried after him. Mr. Finnegan walked slowly and I slowed down to his pace.

"Harry and Dean's mate?"

I nodded.

"But, pardon my asking, are you more than friends?"

"Right, sir," I said with a smile, "I'm also his intended. The arranged marriage law that was passed at the start of summer tied us together."

He nodded slowly, wiping at his watery eyes with a handkerchief from his trousers. "Better a friend than a stranger, eh?"

"I'm very thankful for that. And to be such good friends with him has mean that nothing has really changed. We continue on in the same way we always have."

No photographs on the wall – calm picturesque landscapes of the Irish countryside, rare Muggle still-lives of animals and people but nothing with family members in it. When we rounded the corner to the parlor, I peeked in to see Dean with his arms around a heavyset dark-haired woman in a rocking chair by the far window.

"Stop worrying already," the woman was saying while he rubbed her back. "How many times must I tell you that I feel better?"

"Not enough repetition in the world to make me feel better." He sounded like he was grumbling. "I'm going to see if I can't get a potion for you to speed this 'getting better' thing up. I'll be back here tomorrow morning with it."

"Boy, you don't need to do that."

"Yes, I do! Otherwise I'm going to plant things in the house that will pick up on your conversations."

"You wouldn't dare, you hard-headed little runt!"

I looked behind me. "Do they do this often?"

"All the time." Mr. Finnegan offered a shaky grin. "Times like this we're reminded of the boy we lost in the boys we gained. Harry can't get out here as often but he sends packages along with Dean every week."

I found myself fighting back tears. It was my turn to take one of his hands in both of mine. I meant to offer comfort but I was so shaken by the unfamiliar burning in the back of my eyes that I couldn't do anything. So many people had lost so much and Dean was one of them. The Finnegans and the Diggorys and the Creeveys were some of them. It hadn't been that long at all, and to see him so small but so strong…it really hurt. It hurt and I hadn't one superficial word to say. He understood though.

"Come along with ye," he said hoarsely as I released him. "Meet the missus."

Introductions were made quickly (with Dean latched around Mrs. Finnegan as if he would make her his new home) before I managed to implore Dean to stop asking her about her reasons for not disclosing her flu. After that, we did the same thing we did at Ma'am and Papa's place – split up and split up the chores. Ms. Harriet led me outside to herb & vegetable patch.

"You can mind yourself out here?"

"Yes ma'am," I responded. "I have a garden of my own back home. I'll take care of everything – don't you worry Mrs. Finnegan."

I manifested a comfortable rocking chair and two blankets to wrap her round in. Dean brought out tea, a plate of crumpets and a stool to set it all down next to her. The afternoon passed by under the clear skies – her humming as I worked and the occasional question about my friends and family. She and her husband clearly didn't need a mental bond to arrive at the same conclusion ("You're his fiancée, aren't you? He doesn't bring girls around here.") but she didn't pursue it. Silence. Quiet.

Peace.

"Dean tells me you don't cook so much," she murmured as we moved back into the house. I took her arm to steady her though she didn't really need it. "Take some of the scones with you when you go. Some for you, some for him, you understand?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes lass, you will." Her firm interruption cut that short. "Just make sure ye pack enough for the both of ye."

"Ah, yes," I smoothed over, "of course, and thank you."

"You're more than welcomed. If you could make sure Dean doesn't tell Harry that I had a little flu either."

"I will do my best," I promised, "but I suspect that it will be beyond me. I'll hold him off for as long as I can though."

"That's the last thing I need," she started grumbling too, "the two of them out here fussing and fighting me."

The look on her face was so purely Seamus that I was startled into laughter. _So purely Seamus._ I could see where Seamus had gotten his expressions from. A little painful to see. Probably even more painful for Dean to see to. I sobered quickly at the thought, then pasted on a small smile when she looked over at me. We continued into the house in silence.

"Good, you're back." Dean, who was floating near the ceiling and looking at something up there, spoke around the wand in his mouth (I didn't ask any questions about that). "It's five thirty and we signed up for the six o'clock QuickPort in the Shires. We're going to have to get going soon."

"You do?" Mrs. Finnegan sounded a bit wistful. When I turned to look at her, her face betrayed nothing. Dean's expression however was a bit of a thundercloud.

"Don't forget I'll be here tomorrow morning," he warned. "I'm bringing my textbooks and I'm camping out here until night-time to ensure you take all the proper doses. And I'm bringing Harry."

Before she could shoot me a look, I held up my hand in a placating motion. I'd had nothing to do with this. Surprisingly she gave him a smile and held a hand out. Dean let himself back down to earth (and because of his incredible height it wasn't all that far to go, really) and engulfed her in his arms.

I found myself following them out of the kitchen, down the short hallway, and into a dining room made out in blues and silvers. Finally – a photograph. The entire family in a portrait on the left wall, when Seamus looked to be a rambunctious five or six year old. A frozen moment, a captured memory…the Finnegans smiling at each other then down at their giggling son. I looked away before I could cry again. I looked at Dean who was leading Mrs. Finnegan to the head of the table where a small feast was laid out.

_You cooked all this?_

**_Some of it. Rest was courtesy of my mama and grand ma'am._ **

"Now, tell him not to touch anything in the kitchen or out in the barn because I'll get to that tomorrow." As he talked, he pulled some of the dishes towards him to start

"Oh, lad, let me get that," she interrupted firmly enough. "I might be getting older but I don't need to be coddled yet."

"Yes ma'am." Mr. Finnegan entered the room and looked a little surprised to see all the food on the table. "And here he is. Luna and I had best take our leave now, then."

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek then indicated the door with his chin. Mr. Finnegan came forward and they shook hands, with Dean promising to return with Harry in tow to take care of the rest of the estate tomorrow and urging him to eat as much as possible before. He was like a mother hen here, fussing over the two of them to make sure they were comfortable enough. Though I call him 'best mate', I hadn't had any idea what he was like around family until this summer. He would be such a good Healer because he was such a natural care-taker. Family over everything – that could be his motto.

The more I saw of him, the more I fell in love with him. These were the moments when I was most dangerous to myself – when my unguarded feelings threatened to drown me whole.

As we left, I slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

"You're a great man, Dean Thomas."

"Not at all." His smile was a little sad when he looked down at me. "Not at all. I only do my best."

"Harry comes here too?"

"He does, twice a month or so."

"I hadn't the faintest idea," I mused. "The secret lives of the 'lads' that I don't know about. What other skeletons are hiding in your closet?"

That finally wrung a laugh out of him.

"None, but if I think of something, I'll be sure to let you know."

"I'm honored that you brought me with you," I said quietly. His response was a warm smile. My heart leapt – my usual sign to gently extricate myself from his hold – but I lingered a moment longer. "Let's head back, Dean. Let's go back home."


	7. Little Lies & Unwanted Surprises

_"Would knowing how to say 'Stay with me' in cat language help me at all?" – an exasperated Luna to Kit the kitten, a few evenings ago in the garden._

* * *

"Kit, I wish you would stop batting at the mums," I said in frustration. "Why can't you stay still like Cub?"

Energetic as ever, my little kitten paused, looked at me with those big amber eyes, then returned to batting the chrysanthemums down the row. For the umpteempth time, I wished that I could speak cat - or any language that he would understand then sighed (the fifth time in the last hour?) and sat back on my heels. Gardening with Kit was an exercise in how to keep my cool but he was pushing it today. What's more was that Dean's new puppy was over here as well, so dog-sitting in addition was wearing me out. She was beautiful, a pure ebony that was so dark that she shimmered in light, and was as calm as Kit was excitable. One would think that her lethargy would rub off on my kitten - no, one would downright _hope_ that that would be the case - but, alas, Kit viewed Cub as a challenging playmate. He threw himself at her in an effort to get her to wake, then jumped around and got into anything and everything under the sun when she failed to rise to the bait. Unfortunately, his getting into everything and anything was creating a mess around the house that I was constantly having to clean up.

Dean had dropped the pup off yesterday before he went off to visit his grandparents again, promising to be back in time to get her tomorrow morning before I had to report to _The Quibbler_. Dear that Cub was, I had no complaints. It was Kit's stepped up antics that were driving me up the wall. Heaven knew that had to be the reason for my most uncharacteristic behavior today - I was never this impatient, never ruffled, never so easy to irritate.

And I was surely irritated today. I was irritated and tired and grumpy and…sad.

Perhaps it was the project that I was working on with Christopher at the office - the combined article writing was turning into a bigger challenge than expected. Or perhaps, the failure of Chris and my day expedition to find Snorcuxles last week. Or perhaps it was because the anniversary of Mum's death was in exactly a month, and she'd been on my mind more often than not in the past week. Or maybe I had gone too long without seeing all my best mates. It was a melancholy that I couldn't shake off…so I'd come out here after working this morning to try and weed it out myself. Suffice to say, it wasn't working. It was probably around two in the afternoon but I wanted to let myself back into the house. I looked around my garden, glared at my errant cat, stroked the fur of my I brushed my hands on my trousers then got to my feet. If two hours among my flowers wouldn't do it, then perhaps I couldn't do it by myself.

"Come on, Kit, Cub."

I waited for the light pad of little feet before I started walking. Back to the house, through the kitchen, past the living room, and up the stairs to get my cell phone. Cub snuffled before she gave an almighty yawn and settled atop the blankets at the foot of the bed. Kit disappeared under the bed (probably to find something to destroy, the furry little hellraiser) and I settled against the headboard to make a call.

"Hullo, mate," Gin answered cheerfully, "haven't heard from you all day. How are you? Are you still coming to dinner at Hermione's tomorrow?"

"I'm alright. Want to come over and help me with Kit and Cub?"

"I'd do anything to spend time with Cub." She must have pulled away from the phone to yell at someone in the background. Probably an errant older brother. "Don't mind that - Fred is up to something that involves one of my favorite dresses and- Don't you _dare,_ Fred! I will flay you if you touch that!'

I surprised myself by letting out a laugh. Sounded like the twins would succeed despite her best efforts.

"Gin," I interrupted smoothly, "lock your stuff up with a spell then get over here, pretty please. I'll prepare the fireplace, alright?"

Sounding less than pleased and more than a little aggravated at the world, she agreed and hung up. _One down_ , I thought to myself, _another to go._ But before I could flip through caller ID to get to 'Mione's number, the voice of the one person I hadn't thought I'd hear from for a while interrupted me mentally.

**_Luna?_ **

I gasped then slammed a mental shield down between my more dangerous emotions and Dean, and prayed that I'd done it fast enough and stealthily enough to escape his notice. This was the other downside to being far away - he was far more likely to slip into my mind than reach for a cellphone that was as far as his trouser pockets.

**_Are you very busy with the kids?_ **

I managed a weak mental chuckle (I will freely admit it was two parts relief and one part genuine laughter) before sending him a clip of the afternoon: Cub napping against the far wall of the garden, Kit flitting about in excitement. He laughed.

**_She's been good, I take it, and he's been even antsier than usual, eh?_ **

_I haven't had too much trouble._

**_Sure, you haven't. Is that why you sound tired, my little liar?_ **

_Honestly,_ I protested, _if I'm tired it's only because I'm feeling a little off today._

 ** _Are you hurting? Where?_** Instantly he flared in my head: an outpouring of concern and anxiety and a touch of the sternness he'd already displayed. It was nice to be worried about but I didn't want him looking too closely at my memories today. I didn't really feel sick. If I could be honest with myself, the melancholy was wrapped around missing him. He didn't need to know that. ** _Did you lay down yet?_**

_I'm laying down right now so don't worry._ _And Ginny's on her way over._

Fingers pressed into the skin of my forehead, hands massaging my temples. Dean was getting adept at send sensations and, clearly, had disregarded my words. I made sure my walls were intact before I gave into a pleased sigh. Who had I been kidding? It was far more than 'nice' to be worried about by Dean, and if I didn't feel the overwhelming need to protect myself from him then I would let him do so more often. So just this once...just this one time. Maybe I could close my eyes and let him have his way for a little bit. Maybe I could pretend he was here, for the moment, and perhaps it wouldn't feel so much like melancholy.

 ** _Don't go in tomorrow - you have three weeks until print day._** The pressure moved downwards until I felt him stroking my face. I blinked - and kept half my mind attuned to the wall. At this rate, I'd have to break off contact soon if it didn't hold. **_Let me stay home with you and let me take care of you. And you can continue trying to avoid telling me how the expedition went. Doesn't it sound like a plan?_**

I was silent as I considered the offer. He was dangling the golden Snitch in front of me. How on earth could I say no to that?

 ** _Pretty please?_** he teased. **_With three cooked meals and me as your personal servant on top?_**

I said a silent sorry to Christopher before -

_Yes, tentatively._

_**Tentatively?** _

_Alright, 'definitely',_ I replied.

 _ **Good.**_ He sounded a touch too pleased with himself. _**That's what I like to hear. If I take care of you right, we'll still be able to surprise Hermione tomorrow evening.**_

Hermione had gone from stressed to angry to missing in action in the last two weeks over one Draco Malfoy. The boys, over-protective fools that they were, intended to storm the castle...which really meant that they wanted to eat 'Mione out of hearth and home while she filled us in on how it had been going with everyone's favorite bouncing ferret. From what I could gather, Draco had been doing very well. She'd mentioned something about a first date (which I'd declined to comment on since I was positive that the disastrous affair at the restaurant counted as a date) before running off to Diagon Alley for more textbooks on Healing. Truthfully, I'd been caught up in Dean (drowning, really) and hadn't been too concerned with anyone else's affairs. Ron had decided it would be a good idea for us to just get over to her place when we'd be sure she was home. Everyone had agreed - without her knowledge of course!

 _Indeed,_ I sent back a bit dryly. _Well, let's hope you live up to that promise._

 ** _Do I ever disappoint, darling?_** That was the thing...Dean Thomas, Mr. Dependable. He never _did_ disappoint. _**I'll check back in with you before you drift off, alright? I have to run more errands for Grand Ma'am.**_

_Please send them my greetings._

_**I will...besides, you'll be with me from now on, won't you?** _

I thought it safer to send warmth rather than a response, then let the connection go. Perhaps it had been hasty. But it was for the best, and just in the nick of time too, since Gin came sputtering out of the Sunroom's fireplace at that very moment. She looked like a tempest brought to life - all scowls and ash smudges and flying red curls all over the place. A beleaguered yowl sounded from out of my line of sight before I had time to so much as smile at her. I heaved a deep sigh and got off the bed to greet my best mate and see what in heaven's name Kit could have done now.

"Thanks for coming," I said by way of welcome. We hugged, she cleaned off, and I turned to see Kit sitting on something. Broken. That looked suspiciously like...but, it couldn't be, could it? I patted the large pockets of my pocket but heavens, it looked like-

"My wand," I half-moaned as I dropped on the carpet next to Kit. _This_ was why I hadn't kept animals when I was little. _This_ was probably why I would be in a terrible mood for the rest of the day. "Kit, you snapped my wand? How on earth did you even get ahold of it?"

I dragged the two thin pieces of what was formerly known as Luna Lovegood's wand together, then looked at my kitten, who for once was sitting still and looking right back at me. When I cocked my head, he did too. Locking him up in a room with her toys was looking so much more attractive to me at the moments. Perhaps, if I moved fast enough, Gin wouldn't even notice his absence.

"What else can you destroy today," I muttered before I heaved another sigh and got to my feet. I'd have to write Olliver's to make an appointment for a new wand. Which was as hard to come by as anything, and I wasn't Harry or Hermione or Neville who had mastered wandless magic by nature or practice or necessity. What I was...was a very _not_ calm Luna Lovegood who would have liked nothing better than to leave the pets and the gardening and the house behind to fly off somewhere to be alone.

Think witch on a broomstick.

"Oh, dear." Gin extracted the remnants of the wand from my hand, then bent down to pick Kit up. "Very bad kitten."

"Very _very_ bad kitten," I muttered darkly behind her.

She arched a brow. "Luna, you are in a completely foul mood. Is it not seeing Dean?"

I blinked and she gave me a commiserating look.

"How-"

"Happens to the best of us. Part and parcel of the binding of couples, really."

"You're not serious."

She motioned me ahead of her into my own kitchen, then got milk for Kit and water for Cub, and quill plus parchment for a note.

"You read the fine details as closely as 'Mione does." Clearly, I hadn't remembered that bit. "And you shouldn't feel angry or incompetent - I wasn't kidding when I said it happens to the best of us. It happens to _all_ of us - boy and girl. Why, read yesterday's Prophet, page three mind you, and you'll see what I mean."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I accio'd the newspaper from wherever it had landed in the house and was on my couch and turning to the third page before she could blink. A funny write-in to the Dear Abby column from a Glenda Marsdale, aged twenty-four from London proper - the woes of being apart from her fiancee. Heavens but Ginny was right - he apparently was on a three-week long business trip somewhere out in South America and the poor woman had found herself unable to get out of bed on day twelve of his trip. He'd apparated back for an hour to stay with her...etcetera, etcetera. I snapped the newspaper shut and stared at the edge of my coffee table.

This was a nuisance. This was more of a nuisance than I'd previously thought. It was a slap in the face to realize that we were tied even more intimately than I'd thought possible.

_This. Is. A. Bloody. Nuisance._

"Did you read it yet?"

I entered the kitchen, holding the newspaper so I could toss it at first opportunity.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"A bloody problem, isn't it?"

"My sentiments exactly." I dropped unto the kitchen stool. "I didn't laugh once while reading it. And the Ministry has yet to make a statement regarding the reversibility of this dependence?"

"Yes...which means, couples who _have_ to leave the country to make their living are royally screwed."

"What on earth are we expected to do?"

Gin shrugged, looking more carefree than she had any right to, while putting down to bowls of water for the pets. I knew she harbored a fantasy of becoming a Quidditch player when she was out of school and I supposed the key words were 'out of school'. That would mean she had at least a year before she needed to worry about this little clause. My problem was that it had only been three days - therefore magic effects were out of the question. But if magic effects were out of the question, then that would mean that I just plain missed him. Terribly enough to send my day a little sideways. Which really would mean that the way I felt about Dean were growing faster than I could reign them in.

The blood may have drained from my face.

"You look a little peaky. Are you feeling alright?"

The question went over my head. Had he done anything differently in the last few days? Had I? Because if he hadn't noticed anything amiss then I was still doing an excellent job of masking thinf fgs, but if he had then I would be forced to withdraw even further. What a terrible thought - I wanted to be around him more than half the time but I'd have to cut it out to spare myself further heartache. Maybe tomorrow wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps, I should just go ahead and call it off, maybe I could head to work and stay in the whole day or-

"Luna!" My head snapped up quickly. "You're clearly not listening to me. Go lay down for a nap, since you look so tired. I'll read a book and babysit the pets."

"I'm not tired. I'm thinking."

"You are tired," Gin corrected with a concerned arm. "And thinking too much. I'd like to say that I an read you as well as I can read my brothers, or Harry. You're tired and concerned. What's got you so bothered?"

"I'm trying to puzzle that out for myself."

"You're trying awfully hard. Let me know if you give yourself a brain anyeurism and I'll help you solve it."

I bumped shoulders with her. She was a good friend for trying to tease the truth out of me. Well, she was a _sneakily_ good friend at least.

"So far, I've identified the problem but have no solution. There is _no_ solution and I'm still trying to come to terms with that."

"Sounds like if you looked at the problem from a different angle, it would be a solution in and of itself."

I arched an eyebrow. "Ginerva Weasley, are you trying to sound philosophical?"

"Am I succeeding?"

"Failing miserably."

She burst into laughter. "Damn, it sounded wise in my head!"

I joined in. "Points for trying.

Gin stood to her feet, squeezing my shoulder as she rose. She finally shrugged off her cloak and careless dropped it unto her now-vacated chair. I watched with interest as she flicked her wand and flour, eggs, baking soda floated out of the pantry and sat down in a neat little row on a counter. When had we gotten that big bag of flour? Perhaps - forgive me, it was actually very likely that Dean had done the grocery shopping for us when he was last here. Interesting that I couldn't pinpoint a time, when I had such excellent memory, and that I didn't know. When she flicked her wand again, a small bowl of blueberries manifested next to the rest of the items. This time I had to arch an eyebrow (the Lovegood pantry had fruit?).

"While you puzzle things out, I'm going to make us blueberry muffins." She shrugged on the apron that Dean had bought me as a joke at the end of April. Of course it was unused. Well, at least my best mate looked good in it. "

"Feel free," I said with a sound just short of a lady-like snort.

"Oh, I will." She pulled her thick hair up into a ponytail then shot me a look over her shoulders. "I would also invite you to help but God knows the Lovegood Place wouldn't be able to withstand another fire. Best you sit in place and work on something else."

Good thing she was facing away from me. She missed the lovely glare I aimed her way. After exhausting my minsicule bank of hostility, I sighed and decided to do as she had directed.

Research had centered around investigating a claim made by a dear reader. She'd written into _The Quibbler_ two weeks ago with a normal request for validation. Gromelda Errant of Wiltshire had spotted a pair of creatures that looked like crosses between a flobberworm, the Muggle-animal otter, and a miniature hippogriff...Yes, please, take a minute to think about the arrangement of anatomical features that might have gone into the creation of these creatures. I sure had ruminated upon it long enough before Christopher and I had set off to find it. We'd taken rubber boots and cloaks and a heavy supply of anti-itch creams to combat the generous amount of poison ivy in the area. We'd also made sure to spell our clothes and sacks with anti-flammable and anti-permeable spells because the cross might have produced a strange set of abilities.

We went out to the outskirts of rural Wiltshire to see what we could see. We spent all day and most of the evening there. And saw nothing. Nothing to say that these creatures existed. No signs of life, no tracks, just a lot of rural countryside. I was truly feeling a tiny bit discouraged about the state of affairs and had, for now, convinced my partner to abandon further expeditions. He would probably end up convincing me when I was in a more willing mood. As for now, I could only turn myself away from Gin's cooking to settle on trying to craft the article on an entirely different (and pre-existing) creature. It took a little bit of effort on my end - I freely admit that half of my thoughts centered around the failure and the other around Dean - before I got it together and submerged myself.

An hour and forty-five minutes, I had to thank Gin for the suggestion. Working on the article had grounded me as nothing else could, and not even Kit the Maniac could displace the good mood now.

"Solved it?" asked Gin, as she offered me a muffin from the plate.

I shook my head and grinned. "Not going to be bothered about it for a little while."

/-|-\

I don't tell anyone but everytime I head out to see my granparents and the Finnegans, I always end up in this place. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, the sky is merely overcast. When I'm not, it's raining. The rain doesn't matter-

I stand out here for hours in a drizzle or a downpour. Sunshine or cloudy weather. It doesn't matter because I'm here.

The grass is always green here and it always feels as if the earth will suck in whatever it can get. Rain never turns this place to mush, but instead, encourages the land to start using any means necessary to grow. Flowers and vines line the clearing while the trees reach for the skies. In the days immediately after, I couldn't stand to come near the place. Being here for the double burials had been harder than anything I'd ever faced before, including my father's death. It was a blow to the very softest part of me, I guess. Or at least that's what Ginny had described my pain as. In Dean Thomas words, it was hell. The green grass looked unreal. The flowers that showed up every day did as well. As if flowers could bloody well make visitors feel better. Not at all. At least, I didn't feel better.

So I stopped coming.

I dreamed of Seamus and Lavender every single night after I stopped visiting. Three different repeating ones - one for each of them separately, and the last for the two...the day on the lake Sixth Year, the first time I bested Seamus in wrestling, the first time Lavie came to badger me about something my 'good-for-nothing best mate' had done. The last dream always ends with the same memory. On the Monday of the week before the attack, Seamus had told me that he wanted to marry her. Imagine that. Eighteen years old and he already knew part of what he wanted out of life. I don't know what my face reflected at the time but I know that his face was a study in happiness.

Forget the damned war. Forget the lunatic trying to annihilate the world as we'd known it up until then. All of that...forgotten. Seamus Finnegan was the happiest man alive the day he'd decided to pose the question.

I'm not sure why my mind wrapped things up with that memory. When I stopped visiting, I looked at those dreams as damned nightmares. I'd wake up tired, as if I'd run a bloody marathon in the night, and cold and sweaty. My Healing texts now tell me that this kind of thing happen fairly often when loved ones are killed off in traumatizing events. All I knew for the entire eight weeks that I managed to stay away from this place was that Voldemort had cut me at the root. He'd ended dreams, ruined lives, annihilated entire futures.

Good. Fucking. Job.

Before he died, I'm sure he'd clapped himself on the back for a job bloody well done. After he died, the rest of the world only just managed to pick up the pieces. A lot of the older generation on both sides had died. Half of the teaching staff at Hogwarts had been mortally wounded all during the war - Mundungus, Kingsbolt, Emmeline Vance to name a few. By the end, Dumbledore's Army was leading the charge, with a half-mad Harry in the front. People like Hannah Abbott and me, who couldn't recover from the death of loved ones, were a little insane as well. I would have killed off whole families without batting an eye if I hadn't had Neville and Luna to keep me grounded. None of the rest could reach me. Those two were all that kept me together. The end of the War came about seven weeks too late for my best mate.

I hated living afterwards. Every sound was something to be investigating, every look from a stranger was a reason to slam him up against a wall, all my dreams allowed me no rest. I was a bloody mess. Being so tired after waking up didn't help my anger. The world was too cruel. To take away an only son and a lively daughter...let's just say that the gentle giant disappeared for a long time. What brought me back to this site? I missed them. I was tired of remembering them angrily. I didn't much like myself after. I didn't want to stay secluded, or avoid friends and family.

I apparated out here in pajamas ( I probably looked like a less reputable taller Mundungus Fletcher after he'd been in his cups) with reddened eyes and week-old nightshadow and just...stopped. Part of that was apparting to a place so far away had drained me of energy but damn...the relief I felt to be there was overwhelming. It was the first time I sat out here silently but it wasn't the last.

Sometimes, like today, I sit down next to the two mounds of earth and lay back and stare up at the gray skies. Most times there's blue on the other side of the grey and, if I squint really hard, I can even make out the sun. Remember how I used to hate seeing the fresh flowers on their graves? Luna, who I suspect knows where I'm taking them, let's me take as much as I want from her garden. I get as many colors as I can so that the beauty of them will put the wildflowers around the clearing to shame. Other times I remain standing and I just talk. Talk about preparing for exams, talk about how whatever has happened in the three weeks since I've visited. I wonder what Seamus would have said about me being with Luna. I even found myself relating 'Mione's encounter with Draco at . I'm sure they would have laughed, and Lavender probably would have teased Mione mercilessly.

I never say that I miss them. It's a fact, not an opinion. It's one of those things I don't feel the need to say. I'm sure they know that wherever they are.

"You're back?" Grandmama was fussing before I could fit myself through the doorway. "And you didn't even take a cloak this time. I hope you don't catch a cold before you get home tonight. And you're late! You have fifteen minutes to get everything down here and out the door, you know.

I had to laugh - she was going to be scolding me up until I left to make the 6 o'clock Port-Key schedule

"It's alright, Grandma'am, I'll make it. In fact, let me get my luggage down." I looked around the foyer. "Where's Granddad?"

"In the kitchen."

"What is it this time?"

A smile creased her face. "Experimenting with dumplings."

For reasons only best understood by the man himself, Grandpa had decided to boot his wife out of the kitchen for a week because he claimed that she was 'doing too much'. Which was code for he didn't like to see her on her feet. Which was translated into confusion because while my grandfather would probably survive abominably well if left to his own devices, he hasn't done anything like this for over two years. Grandmama and I could only watch from the perimeters of the living room all week. Still, every meal he'd issued out of his recently acquired favorite place had been more than decent. Grandmama was even joking about keeping him locked up in there. Too bad I couldn't stay an extra day to enjoy anything else.

"Who's experimenting?" We turned to see the man himself carrying my things down the stairs. He reached the foot of them safely, rolled my trolley to a stop, and handed me a sack. "

"You didn't say no to the dumplings."

"Because more than half of what I made is in that bag untop of your trolley." He didn't blink an eye. "And you have less than ten minutes left to reach the Port-A-Key Stop. If you don't leave right now-"

"I'm going, I'm going." I clapped Grandad on the shoulders and drew Grandmum into a hug before she could open her mouth to start fussing again. "Don't forget to have that follow-up with Doc Kensey. And leave Grandad to the cooking since he does it so well."

"Oh, I'm old not senile," she sniped, while the future master of the kitchen shared a look with me. "Get on with you."

My dearest grandfather was more correct than I'd thought he would be. I did get there late and I almost missed that damned thing. One headlong tumble unto the platform, a whirlwind trip through space and an apparition later, I was standing in the underground of the Ministry. What to do next? The obvious answer was to go home, of course, so I apparated-

And found myself outside of the Lovegood Pllace.

Do you know that the first thing that crossed my mind, upon seeing the familiar buttress of the roof and the pretty winding ivy curling around the base of the left side, was why there wasn't any smoke coming out of the chimneys? Only after that did I find myself surprised by my location. I'd meant to go home but clearly hadn't thought of the right place. I couldn't even recall making a decision to get here which means that I could have bloody well splinched myself with my half-assed thoughts. Damn but I must have been tired.

But since I was here already, I was going to go up.

I'd gotten very used to letting myself in and out of the Lovegood Place in the last month or so, and although I wasn't expected, the safeguarding shields still let me inside. Faint light flowed out from underneath the front door and a light was on upstairs in what looked like the Sunroom. I climbed the stairs, sighing happily, before I abandoned my shoes and my trolley and the half-eaten paper bag of goodies from Grandfather at the door. The house was warm despite the fact that it must have rained this morning. When I investigated the parlor, I found open windows. Strange - it was a bit damp outside and the cold air was flowing in but the house remained warm. I shrugged that one off and proceeded to stick my head in the kitchen. Empty. I made a kissing noise, hoping to get Kit and Cub if they were down here but I wasn't rewarded for my efforts. No one down stairs, no sound coming from the experimental room which meant Mr. Lovegood wasn't on the premises, but light upstairs. I wanted to surprise Luna, and I was hoping that her mind hadn't alerted her to my presence especially since I'd been trying to clamp it down as much as possible, so I took the stairs three at a time and padded silently down the hallway.

Maybe Ginny had already left? Maybe Luna was already sleeping?

I rounded the bend in the hallway and found the door to her pretty yellow Sunroom ajar. Finally, another living being!

"Kit," I said, bending low to pick the kitten up. He was always energetic - I'd just bet anything he was the reason Luna had sounded tired today. It certainly wasn't from my black labrador - although Cub was lovely and friendly, she was also exceedingly laid back. She much preferred sleeping in a sun-brightened patch of carpet to running around. And Kit loved the challenge of getting Cub excited enough to run around with him...or after him, as the case I might be. I chucked said kitten under the chin, stroked his fur, did all the necessary things to get him to lie still in my arms before I crossed the room to push the door open. The puppy was fast asleep at the foot of the bed. Luna was almost asleep at the head of it. The sight both worried and warmed me. I'd never seen Luna lay down willfully to take a nap but she was a little hump buried underneath the

"Well hello there, stranger." Her voice was soft and a little hoarse. Damn it, she really was sick. Why hadn't she said something? "I wasn't expecting you another twelve hours or so."

"I know." I dropped Kit on the bed and sat down as she made space for me. I palmed her face to check for temperature - significantly higher than normal and she was sweating. I was now more than a little worried, and rather angry that she hadn't called. I knew it was in Luna's nature to handle things by herself, since she'd been on her own for more years than I cared to count, but I also knew that "But I had this feeling that I needed to come a bit early."

"A bit? Did you?"

Something about the way she said it made me answer truthfully.

"I meant to go home first but I came here first." I watched her push the hair back from her face and huddle further even under the blankets. She opened her eyes to pin me down with that blue blue gaze. And then, I suppose, she got tired of holding her lids up and closed them again. "And just in time sine you, my little mute, couldn't find the voice to tell me that you were sick."

"All I need is a little bit of sleep."

"And all I need is for you to do me the courtesy of telling me when you need me."

"I don't-" I stared at her, even as she cut off the flow of words, knowing that the words came of habit. An uncomfortable silence arose before she opened her eyes and gazed at me. "All I need is a little bit of sleep."

If I could have railed at her, I would have. But she looked so sleepy and tired that the anger was seeping away before I could get enough going for a good rant. My hands stroked the hair back from her face - once, twice, three times - before I let all the scolding I'd wanted to do dissipate. She didn't need anger - what she needed was-

"A Medi-Wizard. And you are in luck since I happen to fulfill that role," I muttered. "Are you still cold?"

"A little bit." Which in the sparse language of Luna Lovegood more likely meant 'a lot'. "But-"

"Just let me take care of you now," I said soothingly. I cupped her face. "Haven't you already promised to let me handle everything? I understand I'm a little early" - here she smiled a little - "but that just means more time for you to be pampered. You're very ill and very tired and I need you well enough to walk around tomorrow. Not to speak of getting to Hermione's place in the afternoon."

"Okay," she said simply.

"Good." I rose steadily, careful to disturb neither Luna or Cub who was still fast asleep. "I'll be right back."

Kit tumbled down the stairs with me, getting in the way more often than not, so that the soup I'd made took a few minutes longer than planned. I was worried that if Luna truly fell asleep before I returned upstairs, she would have a hard time becoming alert enough to ease some of it into her system. I managed to squeeze a phone call to Mama in between whirling around the kitchen, and even got one off to Ron so that my roomates would know that I had made it back to the city safely. Right before the soup finished simmering on the stove, I headed downstairs to see what sort of potions Mr. Lovegood had on hand that could be used for medicinal purposes. I must note that my puppy wandered in to sniff the air curiously then wandered back out to do whatever it is that puppies do in their spare time in the evenings. Kit wandered away as well (probably another feline attempt to irritate her) and I was left in peace to laddle some of the chicken soup into a small bowl, pour some water into a tall glass and bring the whole thing up on a platter to my poor sick best mate.

"Are you still awake? I brought you something to eat." I nudged the door open with a foot and strode across the room to settle. The lump in the blankets twitched. Good, she was still awake. "Do you think you might be able to manage sitting up, sweetheart?"

The sound that came from her was somewhere between a delicate protestation and a low groan.

"Interesting, I don't think I've ever heard you make that sound before." I whispered a floating spell so that the tray was suspended mid-air while I got busy clearing off a small side-table. "But that still sounded more like a no than a yes. Do try and sit up before I get done with this."

She didn't even bother with a response this time, so I was left to alternate between laying heavy knit scarfs and thin books down on the floor that was unusually clean (Ginny had probably whirled right through this place) and cajoling her into sitting up. I allowed myself a verbal cheer when she finally pushed her way into a sitting position, then allowed myself another one when she moved over to make space for me on the bed.

"I want you to at least eat some of it, even if you don't feel like you have much of an appetite."

"Thank you for doing this," she said with a weak but warm smile. I said nothing but placed the bowl in her hands. Her fingers shook slightly when I handed her the spoon, but rather than point them out (when I knew she hated to , I held unto the cup of water. I watched her carefully as she ate - Was the soup good for her? Was it too hot or too cool? Was she thirsty and in need of water? Did she seem cold? Was she getting tired of holding her bowl? Or sleepy? Was she in pain? - and took it from her when I'd deemed she'd had enough. Then I got an extra blanket out of her closet to tuck her in, in addition to her bed's regular blankets. Her smile was stronger this time. "Really, Dean, I can't thank you enough."

I settled back into the bed and she lifted the covers so that at least a little bit of me was covered. I didn't even think twice about shifting closer to her, and before I quite knew how it had happened, we were vertical on the bed and my arms were wrapped around her and she was burrowed as close to me as she could get while being swaddled in an extra blanket. When had I gotten this comfortable with being comfortable around her? And why on earth hadn't she said a thing about being cold all this time? The soup must have helped but she was shivering a little even with all the extra heat that I was probably putting off. I pulled the sheets over us with one hand and pulled her flush against me with the other. Just like that time in the garden after I'd yanked her down, just like the time up in Hermione's room before we'd kissed - I was hit by an overwhelming sense of 'rightness'.

"Don't mention it again," I murmured into the crown of her head. "Just concentrate on getting well quickly. The world needs you up and running as soon as possible."

Silence.

I looked down, already knowing what I'd see before I did. She made a pretty picture, all that corn-yellow was spread out on the blankets and short pale (almost invisible, really) eyelashes sticking out against her cheeks. My hands tangled in her hair for a moment - straight and silky and cool even with the extreme warmth of the room. How she fell asleep so quickly was beyond me - I _still_ found it impressive that she could drop off so easily.

 _Oh well,_ I thought. _She needs the rest._

And I suppose I did too because the next thing I knew I was out like a like light too.

/-|-\

There wasn't enough oxygen in the room to help me calm myself when I opened my eyes the next morning. The last thing I recalled from last night was the feeling of contentment that can only stem from a full stomach and a comfortable bed. What I didn't remember was how I came to be all sorts of wrapped around Dean Thomas and how that could have led to waking up in his arms. Low blood pressure usually slows me down when I rise to conscious - I rise in stages, becoming more and more aware of my surroundings and emerging about three fourths alert. This morning the low blood pressure hadn't dulled my senses as much as it should have, and I was almost fully alert. Or aware.

Whatever you might call it, I needed more air than the shallow breaths I was taking in.

 _Calm._ I needed to be calm because, according to Ginny, the bond was strong enough to wake your other half up if you were in close proximity. I needed some sort of plan before that happened and I had to calm down and _make_ one before Dean became conscious. _Slow and even breathing._

First and most immediate was the question of what to do when he woke up. There were two questions to be answered as soon as possible: would I be able to worm my way out of his arms without waking him up? Normally, I would risk escaping him except Dean was neither a very heavy or very light sleeper. This translated in a 50/50 chance of a sudden rise to consciousness on his part before I could fully extricate myself. Which would land me in the exact situation that I meant to avoid. So now two options were left to me - to pretend, or to not pretend. But could I pretend well enough? Hadn't I already noted that Dean was an expert reader of body language? And how well would the bond shut out the fact that I was awake? And, heavens, could I sit there and not blush and keep my breath steady and-

 _I can't._ Realistically, the odds that I would give nothing away being face to face in bed with him were as low as the odds that I would find myself on the London Muggle stage. So, to backpedal all the way to the beginning, my only option (indeed the only viable choice, now) was to get out bed without waking him.

I could tell you that it didn't take me an entire ten minutes to find away to arrange my limbs and shift out of his embrace. I could tell you that I managed it without once falling back unto the bed then hushing myself violently in the confines of my own head. I could just as well say that there wasn't a moment where I found myself staring at his lips and wondering if he would take this morning position as a chance to kiss me again. Then I could finish up the tale by saying that I was as cool and collected as usual, and completely cured of fever by the time I got myself to the doorway. I could spin you stories but...it would all be a bald lie. I will concede this - if Gin or 'Mione had been here to watch the way I got out of bed, they would have urged me into the circus...I might never contort my body into those shapes ever again.

I was breathless and sweaty and hungry and _relieved_ when I finally made it through the Sunroom and down the hallway. Daddy must have remained at work last night to work on outline changes because the house was as quiet as it could be in the early morning. Kit and Cub accosted me at the bottom of the stage, making pitiful noises that probably had something to do with food and I stopped to stroke them both. When I got downstairs, I got out food and water for them and watched them eat (they were absolutely adorable) and then let them out of the front door to play on the lawn. I returned to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove to make the one thing that I would _probably_ end up making well on my own. Tea. I laid my head on the rough wood of the kitchen table and thanked heavens for successful avoidance of a bad situation.

 _How utterly terrible could that have turned?_ I had no way to judge what Dean's reaction would have been. I snuffled. _Knowing him...anything._

Thankfully the ache in my head had gone away and my throat didn't feel nearly as scratchy as it had before. The adrenaline that had gotten me through the situation would fade soon and leave me almost as tired as I had been last night. I pressed my face into the wood and tried to think quietly to myself. Everyday I thought I couldn't like him more and everyday I was shocked anew. I hadn't wanted him to know I was tired and he could tell I was lying even through the bond. I had purposefully said nothing about the fever and he'd happened to stop by. Literally nursed me back to health. It sounded so trite and girlish and idiotic...maybe I could just quit the Quibbler altogether and take myself off to the country to write ladies' romance novels? I sighed.

 _How much harder is this going to become for me?_ The effort to be carefully bland was draining me when I was with him but I couldn't help but want to be around him. I was becoming self-conscious too - do I look alright? What's my hair doing? Did he say he liked me in blue? - and I fell prey to blushing every once in a while. That kiss had made everything that much more complicated. Feelings that run rampant are as difficult to reign in as a brood of angry mother dragons...add in the physical and the angry mother dragons had eggs to worry about. I still believed that the kiss had been a mistake. At first, my reason centered around the temptation that it represented. We were always touching - when I could steel myself up for it, I allowed him to hold my hand because pulling away would take too much time to explain - and intimacy presented a problem to the barrier.

I was still worried about Lavender. Dean didn't talk about her at all. Nothing to let me know one way or another that he felt anything for her but I thought about her all the time. I found myself reexamining his statements unceasingly. I had never been the type of female to fall prey to a moment's feeling of inferiority but I felt like I was constantly comparing the two of us in my head. I swear I hadn't been able to help myself from glancing through his wallet - yes, Lavie's photo was still there. Her thick dark hair doing something feminine and pretty in the wind of a long-gone day, her smile wide and generous, 'pretty as picture'. Jealousy? Nothing quite so simple. I was mature enough to acknowledge that whatever he felt for her had been before me. How could I compare when he'd known her for so much longer than he had known me? My self-worth wasn't suffering in the sense that I felt unworthy of him...not at all. It was just that I couldn't compete with someone who'd come before me.

 _How can I compare?_ I propped my head up and stared into empty space. _It's not about worth. It's just that I don't know how to fight ghosts._

That's the truth of the matter - I had no idea how the imperfect reality of me could compare to the perfect memories of her.

The low-pitched whistle of the kettle moved me out of my morbid thoughts and into the present. I stood and blinked. The only answer to that first question was this: it wasn't going to become easier. But I had to cope to protect myself. It was just as Gin had cautioned - I wanted a guarantee. I wouldn't expose the bare bones of my feelings without knowing that they would be returned. Never.

"You're up?"

Dean startled me so badly that I did the clumsiest thing I'd done in weeks. I knocked the kettle clear off the stove. Hot water hit the floor, then splashed the front of my sleeping robe since I hadn't been fast enough to dodge it completely. I couldn't completely muffle the groan that escaped my throat on impact.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry." Dean was across the room and dropping to his knees before my brain fully registered the movement. He yanked the hem of the robe up, cupped the leg, and muttered a quick fix spell before the heat could set in and blister. A second spell dried the water on the floor and steamed my clothes, and a third one refilled the kettle and returned it to the stove. His face was such a firm mix of worry and extreme contrition that I couldn't do much more than blink. He smoothed out the dress absentmindedly as he turned that gaze on me. "I'm supposed to be helping you get better - not confining you to further bedrest!"

"You fixed it so fast - it's alright."

"God, I'm sorry, sweetheart." I sighed at both endearment and the warmth in his gaze. Then sighed again when he rose to his full height but was distracted by his voice again. "Does it feel better?"

"It's fine. I'd only wanted to make tea."

Did that sound as terse to him as it did to me? The resounding answer was an affirmation since he paused to look me full in the face as if he had no idea what to say next. I bit back a wince. _Well, that makes two of us..._ I cleared my throat and stepped away from him to sit down at the kitchen bench again. After a moment's hesitation, he followed.

"How are you feeling?" His warm hands touched my face then tilted my head from side to side. I prayed for him to stop. "You're much cooler than you were last night. No sweating, no flush. That's good."

"You're good at this." He looked surprised. I felt moved to continue. "You'll be an excellent Healer, you know."

His smile in response claimed a little bit more of my heart.

"Right!" I stood abruptly and smoothed out my dress. I was moving towards the exit faster than a sick person ought to have been. "I'm feeling more the thing right now so I'll just go right up and take a quick bath, if that's alright with you?"

The shower was shorter than I would have wished - I'd meant to spend at least an hour in there but it was closer to twenty-five minutes. That same self-consciousness had me smearing on a bit of clear gloss on the lips and running a comb hurriedly through my messy hair. An over-sized thick black cardigan that felt comfortable but Gin claimed was fashionable and the baggy dark grey sweatpants that 'Mione had gotten me about a month ago. I reentered the kitchen and was rewarded-

"You look prettier than you have any right to," he said with a smile. I flushed. Predictably. He motioned me over to the sofa and made room. "I already brought the tea out here so sit down and get as snug as you want."

I smiled at him over the rim.

"Did I remember to say thank you for last night?"

He nodded.

"And this morning?"

"I'd wondered if I'd manage to make you angry so early in the day."

"When have you ever made me angry?"

"Never." He picked up his own tea mug, his . "I'm wondering what it would take to get you truly furious."

"With you or with anyone?"

"Are those two different answers?"

I answered carefully, sensing a trap that I couldn't see outright.

"I'm not very sure."

"Not sure?" His head dipped to the side curiously. "You're the surest person I know."

"I am?" This was a surprise. "Really?"

"You are." This time he offered a smile above the rim of a mug. "While Hermione might be a walking-talking-encyclopedia, her logic sometimes undermines her. You, on the other hand, may not know everything but always appear unmoved. I've actually always admired that trick of yours. It's not even so much that you are 'unmoved'. I suppose it looks like you absorb the information but it isn't life-changing...I can't explain it very well."

It was nice to know that I kept calm under all situations. I motioned him onward with a wave of my hand.

"You know, when we first became acquainted with each other, I remember Neville telling me that nothing ever gets past you. I can count the number of times I've seen you amazed on one hand. Half the time, you're inscrutable. I can never completely sure that what I _think_ you're thinking is _actually_ what you're thinking."

I didn't know how to respond to that so I blew on the still hot liquid in my hands.

"See?" he exclaimed. "That right there is an example! Are you silent because you agree or because you disagree? Did you completely not approve my system or is that you don't have anything to say? Or perhaps you actually _want_ me to think all of the above and are being silent on purpose so-"

I laughed.

"You think far too much."

"I think far too little," he muttered. "And what I _do_ think, you neither corroborate or deny."

"Save what little thinking power you have for your exams, then."

He snorted and muttered something under his breath that sounded uncannily like 'damned mysterious'. I hid a wide smile in finishing the rest of the still-hot tea before speaking.

"I'm a rather simple girl, Dean - I don't need or want wealth like the Malfoys, or thirst after knowledge like Hermione, or to be a famous Quidditch Player or anything like that. There's nothing wrong with pursuing any of those because they are all worthy goals to have." I brushed hair out of my face and gazed at the boy across from me. "I've never desired anything like those and I'm sufficiently self-aware to know that I like simplicity. All I want is my family and my work. They fulfill every need - everything besides them is an extra blessing."

A flash of something not easily defined crossed Dean's face. He wanted to say something, it looked like, but he was weighing his words, or maybe judging the wisdom of saying anything at all.

"I went to see them."

He didn't have to identify the 'them'.

"Yesterday?"

He nodded, then shifted so that he was stretched out so that his legs were dangling over the side of the chair's arms and his head was in my lap. I couldn't tell whether he moved because he didn't want to look me full in the face as he spoke, or if he needed to move because the subject matter made him less than comfortable. I accepted both or either as reason, bit back the small flare of _something_ that always popped up when Lavender came up, and offered what comfort I could. He needed it.

"I've known you've been going for a while." I stroked his short hair.

"A few months now." He looked up at me with a half-smile that looked sad. "I suspect that you and Neville have known from the beginning."

He wasn't right about that (Neville had understood Dean's initial withdrawal from the world after the Final Battle but I'd been worried). Nev had had his own grief to nurse: his fierce grandmother had passed on of natural illness near a few weeks before the end. By the time, Dean had emerged from his cocoon, almost a month had passed. We hadn't said a single thing when he'd come wandering into a Sunday dinner at the Burrow looking grass-stained and peaceful. He was back. It had been all that mattered.

"How long did you visit for?"

"A whole afternoon."

For a long time, we sat in silence. I touched as much of him as I could reach, trying to ease this sad pensive mood that had fallen, and he turned his face into my stomach. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hold him closer. I wanted him to know that I wouldn't think him any the weaker if he wanted to cry too. And I wanted to tell him I loved him. I didn't know what to do or if to do anything. I did nothing. I was overwhelmed by the strength of my feelings and cowed into silence by them.

"Temperature check."

Dean rolled unto his back, suddenly, and the switch from serious conversation to serious Medic threw me off.

"What?"

I barely had time to throw up a wall before he cupped my face suddenly.

"Temperature check," he repeated. ""Still cool. Do you need anything at all? What would you like to eat?"

"If I said that I wanted iced pastries, would you make me some?"

Well, that dubious look on his face was all the answer I needed.

"How about I make us a big spread for breakfast?" He glanced outside. "Or brunch, rather. It must be getting close to noon. Enough for the three of us."

"Iced pastries?" I asked hopefully.

He sighed and, without answering one way or another, headed into the kitchen. I grinned to myself. That had been the sigh of the defeated - I was certainly going to get those pastries before the day was done.

/-|-\

The call from Ginny came two hours into a comfortable silence in which I was reading with my head in Luna's lap and my feet propped on a tall coffee table next to the sofa chair. Ginny was rushing ("Hurry up - we want to be there soon!) and we needed to get to Hermione's as soon as possible. Luna traded her sweatpants in for jeans that fit so well that I had to drag my eyes away from the curve of her backside before I made a spectacle of myself, which...well, the only ending I see to that is either me getting slapped or me getting slapped. I busied myself by saying goodbye to our kitten and puppy, then lost track of time so that Luna had to come out unto her lawn to get me. By the time we apparated to the front of 'Mione's studio apartment, we were fifteen minutes later.

"Well, look who's finally here," huffed an angry Gin. She looked ready to hit me - though she pulled Luna into a hug. "I'm guessing Dean is the reason why we didn't get to bombard Hermione in a timely fashion?"

There was no right answer to that. I took myself off before she could morph into a bat and fly in my face. Or whip out her wand and hex me.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" I muttered to Harry, Ron and Neville.

"She's been in a bad mood all day." Harry shrugged. "I recommend keeping your mouth shut and staying out of her way."

"And did that work for you?"

"Not at all."

"Let's go." Ginny flounced up the stairs of the appartment with Luna at her side but stopped short abruptly. It wasn't hard to see why when we all gathered at the top and peered over their heads.

"Holy fuck," someone breathed out loud. "What the hell?"

The place looked like it had been trashed - the front door was blown half off the hinge and wall paintings for the short corridor leading to the living room were ripped and on the floor. Immediately, we assumed something of the defensive formations that had gotten us safe through the War. I experienced a moment's hesitation when I caught Luna's widened eyes but I pushed it away.

_Don't worry._

I squeezed her hand then let go.

We moved forward, food abandoned at the front door, before Neville (who was the quickest thinking on his feet) instructed Hermione to cast a primary group shield. Harry pushed ahead to the living room where the most chaotic scene met our eyes. Hermione, apparently unconscious, was crumpled on the floor of the far wall. Her hair was everywhere, broken pottery surrounded her, and a bright red smear of blood stood out starkly against the cream paint of said wall. Draco Malfoy was going absolutely wild on what looked like it _had been_ a man, below him. His victim was letting out pitiful cries that were neither gibberish or English or any language that I recognized. So much blood everywhere...there was blood splattered over the man's swollen face, shirt down the front of Malfoy's cloak, soaked into the carpet underneath the man's head.

"Malfoy!"

As one, everyone broke formation and sprinted forward. We dragged an insensate Malfoy off the broken bloody man while Gin and Luna rushed around us to get to Hermione. I shook him hard enough to snap a neck and he seemed to look past me, through me, around me as if I were invisible.

"What happened?" Ron yelled, wrapping an arm around the bloke's waist while he struggled to be rid of us. "What happened?"

Nothing. No response, no sign that he even knew that we were here. We managed all of two feet before the blond somehow broke free. A second try proved equally as fruitless.

"She has a broken wrist and she's not breathing right - we're taking her to St. Mungoes!" I barely heard in's voice over the din and someone must have responded because she shut up after that. Heat blasted my back - fire from the fireplace - and the green glow of but I couldn't be bothered since Malfoy had managed to clip Ron in the face as well in a successful bid to return to the man. The man was lots of yelling and more broken furniture and broken bones, Luna appeared out of nowhere and simply hit Draco with a complex binding spell that made him collapse unto the carpet. Even as he lost consciousness, a hand was reaching towards the bloke. Jesus, it was chaos. Then Gin, Harry, Neville and I were left to knock him out with four different stunning spells before the brute's eyes rolled back in his head.

When I could take stock of the situation, Ron was gone. Hermione was gone. Luna was gone too. All that was left was to carry Malfoy to St. Mungoes to join his fiancee in the hospital. And worry about what on God's green earth could have led to the mess that we'd strolled into. Luna found me at the end of a hallway leading to the bathroom with a wet cloth and a cup of water in hand.

"Are you alright?" She carefully wiped and closed the cut with her wand, then handed me the water to drink. "Where else do you hurt? Did he say anything?"

I shook my head and pulled her under my arm.

"Nothing. We couldn't get anything out of him and he nearly killed that man. What about Hermione?"

"Snapped wrist, mild concussion and bruised ribs." She looked up at me. Only the narrowness of her gaze betrayed anxiety. "She's still unconscious and they'll be keeping her overnight to regrow the bones. Ron's alerting the adults and Harry's sent an owl off to Malfoy Manor to let Draco's mum know."

"What the bloody hell happened? What _happened_?" She shook her head helplessly. "I suppose we can't wake Draco to find out after all those spells thrown at him. He's in no condition to be reenervated. And the man?"

"Critical condition - they are four Healers attending him."

"Jesus," I swore softly. "How bad is it?"

"Nineteen broken bones and counting, so far." Luna bit her lip. "Both arms are broken in two places...his face is so swollen that they can't make out anything besides his mouth and the remnants of a nose. Malfoy really did something."

"He must have been protecting her but-"

"Oi." Ron poked his head out of the waiting room door. "She's in the clear. We can head to her room."

I wasn't aware that I had tightened my grip on Luna until she rubbed my arm gently.

"Don't worry. It'll come out alright."

 _God knows it needs to be._ I smiled half-heartedly and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head before pulling us down the hallway. It was going to be a very long afternoon, and an even longer night. As we made dropped in behind with the rest of the anxious group, I flattened my lips into a thin line. I couldn't help but remember the Final Battle.

_Please let Hermione be all right. Please let this not be a prelude to another War._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting my stories out of order on Ao3 - this is second in the Magically Arranged Marriage series that doesn't need to be read chronologically. 
> 
> Mentions of major and minor character death during Battle of Hogwarts. Underage according to American law, not so much in Europe.


End file.
